


the unbreakable fear of losing

by searwrites (sears)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: KageSuga Week, M/M, Minor Sexual Content, Mostly Fluff, Slow Burn, Summer Camp AU, see notes for more tags/warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-07 04:36:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5443547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sears/pseuds/searwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“Kageyama will be with Sugawara.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Tobio’s eyes flit back towards the soft, welcoming smile that hasn’t dimmed once since they got off the bus, and his stomach flutters despite it roiling otherwise in anxious nerves. Sugawara seems nice and quiet, which are two qualities Tobio values in people he’s forced to spend time with</i></p><p> </p><p>Tobio volunteers as a Junior counselor at a summer camp with Sugawara as his mentor.</p><p>--------</p><p>for day 6 of kagesuga week: au</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> additional tags/warnings: this will eventually have some sexual content that may be considered underage (kageyama in this is meant to be 17 while sugawara is 20) depending on where you're from. there is also some offscreen kenhina that can be interpreted however you like. lastly, this is left intentionally culturally vague as i am not 100% sure on any japanese summer camp traditions and this is mostly coming from my own head. if any of these bother you, you may want to give this a miss. otherwise, please enjoy!

 

If Tobio were ever asked to describe the outer layer of hell, he would say it was this particular bus ride. The interior is all dated red felt seat coverings, for starters, the tint on the windows bubbling and peeling, and it smells like dirty laundry. It’s not the most welcoming environment for being an otherwise private vehicle, but it’s more what’s _in_ the bus– or _who_.

It starts off fine, being the first on the bus after saying goodbye to his parents. Tobio yawns a few thousand times, enough to get his eyes watering, blurring the town as they pass through the city center. He’s halfway through a silent decision to try and sleep on the way there, but that all goes out the window the minute _he_ enters the bus.

“Sports camp!” the shrieking, fire-headed demon wails, stopping only when he’s quietened enough to actually become self aware, to notice that the bus is empty except for the sleepy, half-woken (and now very annoyed) boy sat halfway down the left aisle. “Oh, where is everyone?”

Tobio glares at the boy for a moment, before turning his head to refocus on the still scenery outside the window just before the bus takes off again. He’s not even tired, really, if anything he’s frustrated at being denied the chance to sleep off the heavy anxiety that sits its ugly, dead weight on his shoulders. Applying for sports scholarships, and all of the confusion and red tape that entails, has not been a picnic.

It’s why he signed up for this thing in the first place– _‘Junior Camp Counselor Needed!’_ the ad had said, and Tobio had honed in on the specifics: _'Summer Youth Sports Camp’_. His extra curricular activities outside of volleyball are sparse, so this is a last ditch attempt.

A painfully bony elbow suddenly meets his side with far too much enthusiasm, jolting him from his thoughts.

“Who are you, then?” the redheaded kid says, and then proclaims in quiet awe as he leans right into Tobio’s personal space to check out the duffel bag he has kicked beneath his seat. It was a gift from a college scout, for a school he more than likely won’t look twice at. “This is expensive grade gear, are you a pro? This is my first year as a counselor, I was a cadet before, and a forest scout before that. Do you fish? You look like a basketball player, honestly. You know they require fishing here? I thought it was a joke but it isn’t, I hope they don’t make you eat the ones you catch, ugh–”

“Will you _shut up_?” Tobio growls, sending the kid a sharp, pointed glare and then turning back to the urban wilderness outside, the trees steadily outnumbering the buildings as they go. _Great_ , he thinks, _this is what I signed up for_. Babysitting– even the counselors are immature.

“You don’t have to be rude,” the boy says, and then he huffs as he stomps out of Tobio’s row, settling in the one adjacent to him, with the distance of the aisle now thankfully between them. “I’m Hinata Shouyou, by the way, since you’re too busy being a jerk to ask.”

Tobio hikes his duffel bag up from the ground and cradles it in his lap. If he’s going to fall asleep (and that will be a miracle in itself, really) he doesn’t want this Hinata kid pinching his stuff. It was a handout, yes, but he’s earned it.

They drive for a while and pick up two other passengers, one who seems even less friendly than Tobio, which rubs Tobio the wrong way. The two of them, at least, stick together towards the front, huddled in close and sharing a set of earphones. Hinata seems to take some kind of offense to this, and fidgets incessantly in his seat. Tobio finally sends him an unamused look of _'what the hell do you want?’_ to get him to stop staring in his direction silently.

Hinata leans his head back against the seat, his head bobbing along with all the bumps in the road that the bus rolls over, and he jerks his chin towards the gear Tobio is reluctant to let go of.

“What do you play? Was I right?”

Tobio huffs, leaning his head back himself to stare listlessly at the seat ahead of him. “Not basketball. Volleyball.”

“Whoa,” Hinata notes, mostly to himself, “Not what I thought, but okay. Really? I love volleyball, I have friends that play, but it’s mostly a girls’ sport isn't it?”

Tobio’s jaw tightens. “Sports are not limited to gender.”

“I know that, it’s just popular with girls is all,” Hinata mumbles defensively.

The rest of the ride passes in a similarly awkward balance of silence and sudden bursts of conversation. Hinata speaks about a mile a minute, loudly too, so much so that the blonde boy that looks like he’d rather punt children across fields than play sports with them tells him to be quiet. Hinata snaps back that he’s allowed to speak, it’s a public space, though he looks visibly ruffled by the second confrontation within the span of an hour. Tobio only indulges him in conversation because of this. People that lack even the most basic form of focus set him on edge– he’s like a firework that someone lit before thinking to stick it safely in the ground.

 

\--

 

“Good evening Junior Camp Counselors!” the authoritative voice standing before them booms, far too loud for how close they’re lined facing each other, just off the bus. “Camp Karasuno welcomes you for the remainder of your summer!”

Hinata stands stiffly and salutes, while the blonde boy and his shadow to his right giggle at his expense. Tobio resolutely decides to focus on the people in front of him– he’s had enough of his bus companions for one day.

There is one person in particular his eye catches on. The boy to the right of the one speaking – who Tobio assumes is the leader here. He’s got silvery, soft looking hair and a mole just below his left eye. Tobio stares, because his body doesn’t know how else to react, and Hinata keeps making a fool of himself to his left. There’s a boy with buzzed hair and another with a flash of blonde that are trying (and failing) to hide their laughter.

“I’m Sawamura, Senior Counselor, and with me I have Sugawara and Azumane. You will each be assigned a Senior Camp Counselor as your mentor.”

The blonde boy raises his hand. “Yes! Your name?” Sawamura asks him.

“Tsukishima. Um, there’s four of us and three of you.”

“Correct,” Sawamura says, and Tobio lets his eyes drift from the soft, happy looking boy to Sawamura’s left and focuses on the sweaty, nervous mess of the boy (or man?) to his right. Tobio silently prays for one of the other two. “I will be taking two of you, Sugawara will take one, and Azumane the other.”

Sawamura takes a quick roll call, and learns that Tsukishima’s shadow is also known as Yamaguchi.

“Right, Hinata will pair off with Azumane.”

“ _Ayy_ , small fry!” the buzzed headed boy standing behind the Seniors shouts, as if Hinata had been given to him. Hinata looks up at Azumane with a bright and earnest grin, and Azumane scratches the back of his neck before shooting back a hesitant smile. The difference in their height is almost comical.

“Kageyama will be with Sugawara.”

Tobio’s eyes flit back towards the soft, welcoming smile that hasn’t dimmed once since they got off the bus, and his stomach flutters despite it roiling otherwise in anxious nerves. Sugawara seems nice and quiet, which are two qualities Tobio values in people he’s forced to spend time with. The way his skin tingles when Sugawara grips his shoulder as he comes to stand next to him makes it seem far less than forced, but Tobio shoves that thought out of his brain. That isn’t why he’s here, and it more than likely isn’t why Sugawara is either.

“So, that leaves both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi with me. Two for one special.” Sawamura’s assured grin makes Tsukishima visibly cringe. At least Yamaguchi looks vaguely pleased.

“Right!” Sawamura declares, and then the formation seems to break the moment they all seem to realize they’re stood staring at an empty bus. “We’ll show you to your rooms. Welcome!”

“I’ll take that for you,” Sugawara says, grabbing Tobio’s bag. Tobio stumbles and tries to pull it back, but Sugawara easily waves him off. “It’s no trouble,” he says, and then his hand squeezes gently at the back of Tobio’s neck as he points them in the direction of the bungalows closest to the drive. “Come on.”

If nothing else, Sugawara is probably better with kids than Tobio is. Maybe this won’t turn out so bad after all.

 

\--

 

It ends up pretty bad, Tobio learns, as he’s shoved into a dorm room to find Hinata on the bed next to his, unpacking his things. They’d had to stop at the front offices after Tobio had requested to meet with the camp director, Ukai. If anyone is going to sign off on his reference letter, it needs to be him. Sugawara seemed more than a little pleased at his earnest request, charmed by his apparent need to impress. Tobio had wondered if Sugawara wasn’t a little _too_ nice, and then reeled back from that thought. He hardly knows him yet.

But Hinata is an almost elemental force he seems to be unable to escape. The apologetic smile Sugawara sends him when he opens the door and reveals his new roommate for the summer clues him in. Hinata had said he’d been here before, after all.

“I was in the sister camp,” Hinata clarifies, after Tobio makes the mistake of asking about it. “We share grounds and some of the bigger buildings with them, they’re called Nekoma. They’re our rivals.”

“Why are you on this side, then?” Tobio asks.

Hinata shrugs, and the dimming of his enthusiasm is almost visible, like a light going out. “This was the only one that had counselor vacancies,” he says, and then takes a breath and seems to perk himself up. “But it’s just as good! Director Ukai is legendary, he’s supposed to be the 'fun one’, or so I hear, he almost never supervises until parent's night. Do you want to swap beds? This one seems a little lumpy.”

“Uh, I’m fine,” Tobio says, spreading himself somewhat possessively against the mattress he’d claimed by the window.

In doing so he ends up laying back and staring up at the ceiling as Hinata putters around next to him. They have an hour to get settled, and then they are to attend a counselor orientation. Hinata is practically bouncing off the walls the closer that time comes, and Tobio only hopes it’s an excitement that will wear off quickly. He’s here to focus, and to make a good impression on those who matter, if nothing else.

Hinata explains that the camp is divided into competitive ‘bases’, but that both camps share a lot of the facilities: the recreation center, the larger fields, the cafeteria. He seems to be bouncing as he speaks, his legs crossed as he grips tight at his bare shins, and Tobio watches almost in caution, worried Hinata is at risk of exploding, or something similarly catastrophic. It reaches a fever pitch the minute Hinata mentions a boy named Kenma ( _“but you should call him Kozume”_ ) who is, according to Hinata, some kind of volleyball genius. Tobio wonders if this boy is the reason Hinata took an interest in volleyball, an otherwise ‘girly’ sport to him.

Once Hinata has stopped bouncing around in his own skin with excited nerves, he focuses down on his phone, chewing on his lip as he thumbs intently at his keyboard. Tobio allows himself to look away, gazing out at the setting sun he can see over the lake from his window. He was kind of hoping there wouldn’t be an element of competition at this camp, was planning on a reprieve from that particular area of stress. It doesn’t seem that competitive, if Hinata’s cross-team enthusiasm is anything to go by, but Tobio always manages to slip into that mindset whether he wants to or not. It’s an automatic reaction, deeply ingrained in the marrow of his bones: he _has to win_.

“Why is your face like that?” Hinata startles Tobio from his thoughts, taking a break from his phone to frown in confusion over at the way Tobio glares out his window. His expressions can be intense, he knows, but he’s never had someone so bluntly call him out on it.

“I didn’t realize we’d be competing against another camp,” Tobio clarifies, somewhat agitatedly.

Hinata shrugs, and his voice drops considerably in volume when he focuses back down on his phone. “It’s only kids,” he mumbles.

 

\--

 

Breakfast the next morning is an interesting affair. Tobio hadn’t managed to sleep too well on the thin cot-like mattress, and Hinata is just as ridiculous in the early morning hours as he is at all other times of the day, so Tobio is more than a little grumpy as he sits on the hard plastic seats of the cafeteria tables.

The food isn’t great either, the egg is rubbery and the rice isn’t even warm. Still, he manages to eat it all as he observes the rest of the table quietly.

Sugawara comes to sit across from him, smiling and dipping his head, like he somehow already knows Tobio doesn’t like to use words in the morning, which is nice. He’s perceptive, it seems. He even ramps up his energy whenever he talks to Hinata. _He must be very good with the kids,_ Tobio thinks, and is thankful for it.

“Hey, small-fry,” The aggressive looking one, Tanaka, says with a jerk of his chin towards Hinata.

“I have a name!” Hinata yells in response, and the other boy to his right, Nishinoya, seems to agree as he thumps Tanaka on the head with his fist.

“Ow, fine! Hinata-kun, since you are our apprentice now you must address us all as your senpais!”

Nishinoya seems to enthusiastically agree, while Azumane looks like he’d rather be eating his breakfast in complete silence. Nishinoya goads him into agreeing too, eventually, and Hinata is forced to concede defeat.

“You’ll learn a lot from us, young grasshopper,” Tanaka bleats, and both him and Nishinoya press their palms together and bow their heads in sync.

Tobio glances at Sugawara, and catches him rolling his eyes at the exchange. Tobio smirks to himself, and then forces his gaze back down to his food.

The loud chatter continues around him, and eventually Tobio feels a soft point of pressure against his ankle. For a moment he thinks _‘how rude’_ , before he realizes it’s Sugawara trying to get his attention. Tobio quickly looks over at him.

“We don’t have to do formalities, if it makes you uncomfortable,” Sugawara says, his voice pitched quiet, just for Tobio to hear. Tobio swallows over a mouthful of tasteless egg, and wishes it were cracked raw over hot rice – it’d be easier to stomach, and maybe he wouldn’t feel as queasy with Sugawara looking at him like that: patient, kind, intent.

“What should I call you, then?” Tobio grumbles, for no real reason other than to not appear too eager.

“Suga is fine, it’s what everyone calls me around here.”

“ _No_!” Tanaka yells, reaching over to point an accusing finger at Sugawara, and then changing his mind halfway through and pointing at Tobio instead. “We have earned that right!”

“Stop it,” Sugawara chides, pushing Tanaka’s hand away from Tobio’s face. He’s smiling through it though, not as exasperated as he sounds. _He likes to be liked_ , Tobio thinks to himself, and somehow doesn’t see this as a negative trait. It’s human – everyone wants to be liked.

“You can call me Tobio,” Kageyama says, pointedly to Suga and Suga alone, and he catches Hinata’s somewhat hurt glare as he raises a pointed eyebrow in Tanaka’s direction. A challenge – a simple _‘watch me win this one’_ , the familiar fit of competition already slipping down over his arms, snug against his chest.

Tanaka scoffs, but seems otherwise unperturbed. Suga ends up chatting easily with Sawamura (who doesn’t seem keen to concede his seniority to his two juniors, but also doesn’t seem like the type to verbally demand that kind of respect either), and Tanaka refocuses his obnoxious goading on Hinata. Hinata, for what it’s worth, seems to like the attention too, even if most of it seems teasing. _Tanaka is probably also good with kids_ , he thinks to himself, and he wonders if Tanaka and Nishinoya are forceful stand-ins for Azumane’s authority, or if Azumane put them there so he doesn’t have to deal with children. He looks to be that type, at least.

 

\--

 

Each senior has a group of kids that they train, and as both camps share the field, Tobio gets his first look at Nekoma out here. Hinata says they usually eat breakfast together too, but it’s Nekoma tradition to share their first meal together on Nekoma-only ground. Sawamura comments offhandedly that Karasuno do the same, they just have the advantage of Nekoma giving up the cafeteria, though Tobio doesn’t think it’s exactly the same, not really.

Sawamura immediately walks towards one of the taller looking Nekoma seniors, and they share a companionably strange handshake that begins with them each gripping the other’s forearm. The tall boy has floppy black hair that looks expertly styled skyward, and his grin as Sawamura speaks to him seems almost predatory. Tobio is so intent on watching him that he startles when Suga pokes him in the side to grab his attention.

“…and this is your new Junior Counselor, Kageyema-senpai.”

A group of roughly ten children, ranging from what looks to be age five to age twelve all chime in unison, “Welcome, Kageyama-senpai!”

One child in particular, a boy with choppy cut brown hair that looks maybe seven or eight, barrels towards him at top speed and clings to Tobio’s right leg. He’s about hip height, and Tobio is suddenly and inexplicably terrified of him.

Tobio fights the urge to flee from the noise and pointed attention, never mind the death grip this boy has on his leg, and he glares in a weakened moment of terror at Suga. Somehow he seems to silently convey the panic of _‘what the hell do I do here?’_ , and Suga steps in again.

“Let him get acquainted before you attack him, Onaga-kun,” Suga says, as he gently peels the boy away from Tobio’s hip. Tobio expels a relieved breath once he feels the absence of pressure.

The kids, otherwise, are generally well behaved, and Tobio attributes most of this to Suga. They start off by kicking an extremely bouncy ball around the field, which Tobio doesn’t understand the point of, but Suga’s kind and calm instruction keeps all of them well in line and still entertained, so for that he’s thankful. It gives Tobio the chance to glance around him, which only adds to the feeling of gratefulness, because everyone else’s kids seem out of control. Tanaka and Nishinoya have somehow seemed to regress back to childhood and are running around like idiots with their kids, tripping all over each other. Tobio expects to find Hinata doing the same, but instead Hinata seems distracted, looking over towards the other fields occupied by Nekoma teams.

Eventually Azumane’s team of kids gets a little too rowdy, and a girl who looks almost younger than Suga’s youngest ends up on the ground with a scraped knee and snot dribbling in a steady stream out of her nose as she cries. Azumane shouts some sort of instruction at Tanaka and Nishinoya (more than likely scolding them to tone it down) and then what Tobio sees next surprises him. Azumane gets down to the little girl’s level, and uses the sleeve of his sweatshirt to wipe her nose gently. She doesn’t seem even remotely intimidated by him, which is strange, and then once his murmured words to her have gotten her to stop crying, she holds out her arms so that Azumane can pick her up. He takes her off to the side, and beckons Hinata to come over with what Tobio assumes is a first aid kit. Azumane puts a colorful bandaid on her knee, and within moments she’s giggling and smiling, squirming back onto the field as Nishinoya comes over to try and attack her with tickles. Once she’s back in the action with Tanaka – who now has a towel tied around his neck like a cape, holding a stick and yelling like he’s instructing a troup of sodiers to battle – Azumane’s hand ends up on the back of Nishinoya’s neck, squeezing.

 _They’re_ all _good with kids_ , Tobio comes to realize. He thinks guiltily of Onaga-kun’s confused face when Tobio flinched away from him. _Except me_ , he adds.

“They can get a little too wild,” Suga says, and Tobio hadn’t noticed him coming to stand next to him. Tobio turns and watches the kids keep their formation, playing nicely together. He looks down at Suga next to his shoulder. “It’s hard not to want to put my cadets in pads and helmets when we play them, but those aren’t allowed.”

“Aren’t allowed?” Tobio asks.

“It implies we let them rough-house, which clearly–” he gestures towards Azumane’s team, “–we do. Doesn’t look good to the parents, makes it seem too serious.”

Suga looks like he wants to say more, gets a bit of a sassy tilt to his head and looks like he’s thankful to have a neutral party to complain to, but they’re both pulled from their conversation when one boy starts yelling at another as they fight over the ball they both refuse to let go of.

Suga storms over to them, looking far more intimidating than Tobio had thought was possible, but he’s distracted from watching the firm, straight line of Suga’s shoulders by the two boys who continue to tug and pull at the ball. Suga remains diplomatic as he attempts to pull them apart, but then one of the boys yanks too hard on the ball and sends the other one onto his side with a yelp. Tobio flinches towards them on impulse, and then stops himself. Suga steps back with a huff that seems to silently say _‘now look what you’ve done’_ to the boy who angrily keeps hold of the ball he’d won in the fight. Suga looks to Tobio, raises a questioning brow, and Tobio swallows thickly as he gets to one knee in front of the boy clutching the ball. Suga instead goes for the one who fell, looking him over for injuries.

The angry boy looks a little frightened of him, which Tobio decides to use to his advantage.

Tobio takes a quick glance at the rope interwoven with plastic flags tied around his waist, and then at the rest of their kids all gathered around them to watch. Half of their flags are yellow, the other half are blue. Most of them are falling off the smaller children’s hips, but the colors are stark and they’re tied around them for a purpose. Both of the boys who had gotten into the fight are wearing blue flags.

“You’re on a team, right?”

“Yes, senpai,” the boy grumbles quietly.

“Then you win as a team, right?”

The boy frowns deeper, his voice wobbling, “Yes, senpai.”

He doesn’t seem to be getting his point across, and frustration tightens his throat. He knows this, he just can’t convey it properly. He glances towards Suga, who’s sitting on the grass with the other boy, both of their attention on them. Suga smiles encouragingly, so Tobio soldiers on.

“You don’t have to win all the time, and winning by yourself isn’t as fun,” Tobio says, schooling his voice into something more personal, softer. “You don’t even have to like the people you’re on a team with, but they’re there for the same reason you are.”

The boy looks up at him, a thread of confusion tugging his eyebrows together, and it strikes Tobio in a moment of oddly timed clarity that this boy, for however short their acquaintance has been, already sees Tobio as a mentor. The weight beneath that thought is momentous.

“But it was my turn!” the boy yells, and then dips his head again when he realizes he’s raised his voice at his senior.

Tobio steels himself, settles his weight on his knees as he stays crouched and takes a deep, steadying breath.

“I bet you both could work better together than you could alone. Two is better than one, right?”

The boy looks to the smaller boy he’d knocked over sitting next to Suga, and then back to Tobio with something like guilt slackening his grip on the ball. He then seems to ponder something, for long enough that Tobio wonders if he hasn’t somehow said the wrong thing, and then he brightens, seemingly out of nowhere. “We can win _two_ golden branches!” he declares and Tobio nods, even though he hasn’t the slightest clue what that means.

“Um, sure,” he says awkwardly, and he nearly falls backwards, when the boy shoves the ball he’d won into Tobio’s hands before trotting back over to the rest of his team. The boy he pushed joins him, and they don’t exactly hug it out or make up, but they seem okay with standing next to each other, which is enough for now.

“That’s a great lesson for the kids to learn,” Suga says, reaching out a hand to help Tobio back to his feet. “You handled that really well.”

“Thanks,” Tobio says quietly, angry at himself when he feels his cheeks heating up in response to the fondness written all over Suga’s face. _That’s just how he is with people_ , Tobio says to himself, and ignores the flutter of attraction in his stomach that seems intent on making itself known.

Now, if only Tobio could take his own advice. Suga wouldn’t look so proud of him if he knew.

Before Tobio can properly feel the sting of his own words, Suga squeezes his shoulder, and leans in to murmur a quietly teasing threat of, “Don’t you end up charming all my kids and stealing my job, alright?”

“Right,” Tobio croaks.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day they all take the kids down to the lake for swimming and other water related activities. Tobio brings a volleyball with them, because there’s a net conveniently pitched in the sand, and Hinata won’t shut up about seeing his skill and comparing it with his friend from the Nekoma side of camp, who also happens to have a focus on setting, though Hinata claims he doesn't enjoy it very much. Tobio winces at the weak comparison every time Hinata mentions it, but Hinata almost never listens when Tobio tells him to be quiet about it.

The minute Sawamura sees the ball in Tobio's hand he calls the all the counselors nearby in and announces a Karasuno vs. Nekoma friendly, despite the fact that there's a whole separate division of Karasuno counselors that already have juniors that aren't here, and were not introduced on the first day. Suga interacts with them sometimes, particularly the tall, dark haired girl, but Tobio assumes she keeps her distance because of the way Tanaka's tongue lolls outside of his mouth whenever she's within a visible range of distance. The team they put together for the impromptu volleyball session seems ragtag and rushed, and Tobio is less than enthusiastic. He was hoping to only have to toss a ball back and forth with Hinata to appease him.

Sawamura seems to know what he’s doing, and without really much fanfare he assigns everyone roles. Suga, for whatever reason, is the first he picks to be setter, and Tobio is too focused on his mildly pointed confusion to notice that Sawamura has only left a single spot for junior counselors on a rotation system. He sits uncomfortably next to Tsukishima on a log wedged into the sand to use as a makeshift bench, putting his weight on only the very edge of his backside to keep as much distance between them as possible. He scowls at Sawamura without meaning to, and figures it's fine considering Tsukishima is doing the same. Yamaguchi is on rotation first, as Sawamura seems to like dealing with him the most. Hinata yelps when he realizes Sawamura is pushing him away from the net instead of towards it.

“Each of you will get a chance,” Sawamura says, in response to Hinata’s outrage. The easy smirk he sends through the net at the Nekoma Senior (“Kuroo,” Hinata had informed him, far too casually) seems significant. Tobio sits on the bench for the first time in at least three years, and does nothing to hide the fact that he's unhappy about it. Hinata grumbles and fidgets beside him, which only makes him more irritated.

They play without any real regulations or rule, unsocked feet digging deep into sand, and at least half of them end up with their tshirts pulled off, which Tobio thinks is mildly inappropriate, and figures there might be more than one reason that the girls avoid them. Suga eventually wanders away from the game like it's nothing when one of their younger kids, Komaki, begins crying because he seems to have lost his glasses somewhere in the water. Tobio spends a solid minute and a half chewing on his lower lip, watching intently as Suga rolls his jeans up to his knees to wade through the shallow waves with the boy and wondering if he shouldn't be jogging over to help. Suga holds the boy’s hand tightly, gently shushing his cries and swiping the dusty water back and forth with his hands as they continue their search. Just as Tobio is about to run over to them to offer his help, Sawamura cuts through his focus.

“Alright, kid, you’re up.”

Tobio turns and gapes at him, cursing the timing. “Me?” he asks.

“Kageyama!” Hinata yells, and then gestures him over with far too much enthusiasm. It seems without Suga they can afford two juniors on rotation at once.

He takes Suga’s place, and the roll of setter fits him like a glove.

“Shit, you’re fast,” Kuroo pants out after a few rounds, keeled over, resting his palms on his knees. It takes Tobio a second to realize he’s talking to Hinata – not him.

Tobio frowns, and then looks back out to where Suga was before. He’s on his knees in the water this time, at eye level with Komaki, and he’s putting the glasses back on his face for him. Tobio is struck with an oddly timed sense of guilt. He’s not playing selfishly, at least not on purpose, but it feels like he’s not focused on the right team, so to speak.

Hinata shouts at him some more, inexplicably energized by the game for having otherwise thinking of the sport as ‘girly’, but it only takes Tobio a few cataloging run-throughs of the Nekoma team to make sense of it. The blonde one, setter – Kenma-chan. _Hinata is trying to get his attention,_ Tobio thinks.

Hinata has this maniacal response to Tobio’s tosses, something like an inexpert quick, where he makes this unhinged scream as he jumps with his eyes closed and hopes for the best. They lose, because Hinata is a ball hog, but Tobio isn’t exactly surprised. Azumane looks like he’s more than a little irritated at being constantly bumped into, but Tobio recalls his gentle nature with the young girl, and doubts he’ll actually bring it up.

“You didn’t tell me you were so good at this,” Suga says, startling Tobio with the warm proximity of his voice, his hand resting firm on his shoulder as he makes his way towards the bench now precariously tipped to one side in the sand. He’s been watching, Tobio realizes, for the last few sets. Tobio had been so focused on the game that he hadn't noticed.

“You had it covered,” Tobio grumbles at the accusing tone Suga uses, and he hopes a marginal brow-lift is enough to convey his thanks when Suga hands him a cool bottle of water from the ice chest.

“Still,” Suga says, nudging Tobio in the side with his elbow, the contact soft enough to have Tobio’s stomach flipping. “I would’ve sat out for you.”

“It’s fine,” Tobio replies, and for what may be the first time in this context, he finds he actually genuinely means it.

He leaves the game after that, though the rest keep playing, albeit not very seriously. Instead he tightens the drawstring on his shorts, pushes the hems up his thighs and starts offering to toss some of the smaller kids into the water. Only a few concede to this at first, considering Tobio is still learning how to school his face into something less threatening, but some of the braver kids seem to put the rest at ease by sacrificing themselves to go first. Knowing Suga is watching him now, laughing along with the children, sitting back on the damp sandy banks, makes Tobio feel marginally more important. Volleyball isn't as vital here. Impressing Suga, somehow, is.

 

\--

 

At dinner that night, there is something snagging Tobio’s attention, something he can’t quite make sense of. Hinata keeps trying to talk to him, but he can’t seem to focus, it’s like all he can see is Suga casually walking away from the volleyball game on repeat in his mind, bare feet sinking sure and steady into the warm sand. They hadn't talked about it much, Tobio was winded and his biceps burned from the combination of tossing volleyballs and then subsequently decently sized children, but even if he hadn't been, he knows his intensity can scare people off. He doesn't want to do that now, but he needs to know.

“Why did Sawamura-san pick you to be setter so quickly?” Tobio blurts out across the table at Suga, and then nervously clears his throat as he realizes the volume of his voice is probably far too high to be considered casual. Hinata is so damn loud sometimes it’s like Tobio needs to think even louder just to not get lost, but even Hinata looks curiously at Suga for an answer, distracted from gesticulating wildly at whatever game Kenma's playing in his lap.

Suga looks surprised, at least, his eyebrows rising. He says simply, “I played a little in high school,” and then focuses back on his food. Tobio is just aware enough to catch the way Sawamura looks over at him then.

“Why’d you stop?” Tobio asks, this time quieter. Hinata’s pea-sized attention span now seems fully focused on Tanaka as he waxes poetic about the girls' side of camp, particularly the dark haired one again, Kiyoko. Kenma at least seems to be used to tuning them all out, focused once more on his game after the table-wide interruption, but Tobio only offers them the minimum amount of his attention before focusing back on Suga completely.

“I wasn’t very good,” Suga replies easily. “Not enough to play in college, anyway, not like you. So, I do it here for fun. Teaching kids to play feels less like a waste of time.”

“It _isn’t_ a waste of time,” Tobio replies immediately, his tone impulsively fierce.

Suga levels him an unamused look, which has Tobio sinking back into his shell a little bit. Suga can look dangerously firm when he wants to, though Tobio has only seen that directed at the kids up until now.

“I’m not saying it’s a waste of time,” Suga corrects him gently, and Tobio feels Suga knock his sneaker against his beneath the table. He wonders if it was intentional or not– if it would be weird to knock back in something like a silent apology for overreacting. Or maybe that was Suga's way of saying _'don't mind'_.

“Well, I thought you were good,” Tobio grumbles, more to his food than to Suga, and he pretends not to notice Suga’s responding shy grin. Tobio can feel Hinata’s eyes flitting between them both, his interest once again piqued. He’ll have to lecture him later in their room about being rude and minding his own business.

 

\--

 

Soccer day is apparently something most of the kids look forward to. They split off into their respective teams and each get an assigned neon plastic vest to slip over their camp t-shirts in coordinating colors. Tobio struggles to fit his over his head, and grunts about it being child-sized and stupid, pretending his blush is due to anger and not the soft way Suga laughs as he fixes it for him. Tobio spends an extra amount of time angrily flattening his hair down once Suga ruffles it after fixing his vest.

Hinata stares on purpose this time, after their talk the night previously, obnoxiously pulling his eyelids open and spreading his legs in a wide stance like he’s observing wild animals. Tobio flips him off discretely so Suga doesn’t see, and frowns when it only makes Hinata laugh.

The whole event is an unorganized mess, and it makes Tobio’s teeth itch. None of the seeds are right, there’s an uneven number of teams, and no _‘bye’_ s or equalizers allowed, according to Sawamura. Tobio goes to complain about this to Suga, to which Suga’s response is to clutch his clipboard beneath his arm, patronizingly pet Tobio’s hair down against his head, and say, “I know.” All Tobio's brain can seem to do at that moment is zero in on the fact that he must not have fixed his hair well enough. He almost misses the way Suga's hand lingers at the base of his neck while they wait for their kids to gather around them.

“Right,” Tobio says, pulling their kids into a huddle. Suga hangs back and observes, and Tobio can almost feel the weight of his eyes on him. Still, this is what he knows how to do, so taking charge of a team comes almost naturally. “Who plays what positions? We need to pick some starters here.”

One of the younger boys pipes up with a softly muttered, “I thought we all get to play.”

“You will,” Tobio appeases quickly, thinking of Suga watching him, “But we should start strong, right? So we can end with… something fun.”

“Right!” all of the kids respond at once, and Tobio flinches slightly at their collective enthusiasm. He wasn’t…. expecting that.

“We’re playing on a small field, so two mid-fielders, one forward, two defense, and we need someone solid in goal.”

The kids begin to volunteer for the roles as Tobio describes them, each of them more excited than the last. Their goal keeper, a girl who is probably only twelve but is tall enough that she more than likely gets mistaken for a counselor by the parents, even buckles down her stance, gripping her knees and centering her balance. There is a silent ripple of energy as they take their respective spots that makes Tobio’s blood pulse in his veins. They are going to win this. And it’s partly because of him.

They play Sawamura’s team first, who seem only slightly less chaotic than Azumane’s team, running around the small cut-in-half field like a pack of shrieking hyenas. Tobio has amped his own kids up into taking it at least moderately seriously, and they take the lead two-nil in their first half.

Suga takes a seat on the bench next to where Tobio is standing, doing his best not to pace the length of the field and bark orders or instruction. Tobio glances to Suga, who lifts an almost challenging brow at him, and Tobio winces away from the look, refocusing on the field as he tries not to decipher what Suga’s suddenly cold judgment might mean. They have a game to win.

They do win, of course. Tobio knew they would. All of the kids come off the field giving Tobio high fives, and a few of them start screaming about Tobio being the best coach they’ve ever had, and Tobio feels almost light headed with it. That these kids not only trusted and listened to him, but that they respect him. That he did something positive for them, and they recognize that.

It takes Tobio a while to notice Suga has walked off, again. Even Sawamura looks apologetic when Tobio glares in his direction. Sawamura follows Suga off the field, while Tobio does his best not to let his anger be visible to the kids who are still running on the high of their win. He knows how important that feeling can be to keeping morale up.

 

\--

 

“Is there a reason you keep walking away from your team? Or is it me you’re walking away from?”

Tobio finds Suga standing in front of a large, hacked up tree out in the woods behind the dorms after everyone split for lunch, staring up at a thick branch that seems to have had at least half of its contents sawed off at some point or another. Tobio is out of breath and fuming, his chest rising and falling from the brisk way he’d jogged over once he found him. They’d won the whole damn set, and Suga wasn’t around to see it.

Suga turns, the only real indication of surprise being the slight widening of his eyes, and then he shrugs, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“You seemed like you had everything under control.”

“You’re supposed to mentor me,” Tobio says, frowning deeply.

“You don’t need it.”

“I do!” Tobio yells.

“Tobio–” Suga starts, exhaling Tobio’s name like it’s a burden on him, and then he seems to stop, looks down at the ground near his feet.

Tobio waits, somewhat impatiently, his entire body rigid with tension, and he’s about to break the silence when Suga beats him to it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left, you’re right. It’s just… my head isn’t– I’m kind of distracted right now. I'm trying not to be so negative.”

Suga smiles sadly at him, and then he turns back to face the tree he’d been observing before Tobio came up behind him. Tobio steps over the mossy leaves and dirt, and stands to Suga’s side. He looks at Suga, not the mangled tree.

“I’m sorry, too,” Tobio mutters quietly, “For yelling.”

Suga waves him off. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Well then I’m sorry you think I stole your team,” Tobio adds defiantly, childishly prodding for a reaction. Suga laughs quietly, and reaches up to squeeze Tobio's shoulder.

“You don’t have to be sorry for these kinds of things. You don’t hold yourself back because you’re afraid of being better than someone else, you got that? Never do that.”

Tobio scans Suga’s face skeptically, unsure of where this is all coming from. “Right…” he says carefully.

Suga makes an affirmed humming sound, and then drops his hand, turning back towards the tree. “Sometimes you have to just… push past those obstacles, sometimes you are going to upset people. It’s how much tact you do it with that matters.”

“Yeah,” Tobio agrees, frowning as he continues searching Suga’s expression for some kind of an answer as to what this is all about, “But it can’t be nice to have your efforts ignored.”

Suga looks wounded by this, as though Tobio hit a soft spot, and Tobio realizes with a sudden spark of clarity that he would be devastated if Suga didn’t want to speak to him after this, if this is another rivalry that Tobio has ignited that promises to ruin any chance at a friendship. He’s had one too many of those already.

“You know the golden branches the kids keep talking about?” Suga says after a significant bout of silence between them. His voice is so soft and casual that Tobio has to convince himself he heard it. Suga continues, pointing upwards, “They all come from this tree.”

Tobio glances up towards it. “Oh,” he says.

“We’re killing this tree, just to spray paint pieces of it gold to give to kids to make them feel like they’re worth something,” Suga says, and then he shakes his head and glances over to Tobio. “That’s pretty bad, right?”

Tobio shrugs, chews on his lower lip a little and thinks about it. “No,” he decides. “I don’t think it’s that bad. If the tree knew it was making children happy I think it might be willing to give pieces of itself away.”

Something in Suga’s expression shifts then. He gazes at Tobio like he’s a puzzle he’s on the verge of solving.

Suga stares at Tobio for long enough that Tobio is worried he’s said the wrong thing again, but then the tension suddenly dissipates and Suga is smiling easily once more.

“You might be right,” he says. “We had to start taking more branches and spray painting them gold, too many kids felt left out. We do a year end awards ceremony and pretty much everyone gets one now, for something or other.”

Tobio nudges Suga’s arm with his elbow. “Did you win any?”

Suga laughs softly. “Yes, many.”

“What for?”

“Let’s see,” Suga begins, and then holds out a hand to count off his fingers, “Most organized dorm room, neatest eater, most impressive gel pen collection, most frequent showerer, and, oh– last year? Most reliable counselor.”

Suga seems saddened by this, at least the last one he mentions, so Tobio prods him again with his elbow.

“That last one sounds pretty good.”

“It was,” Suga says, smiling wide in a way that feels a little forced to Tobio. “But it’s unlikely I will win it again.”

Tobio isn’t sure what to say to this. Suga seems deflated, and Tobio feels responsible for it.

After a moment’s pause where Suga looks back up at the tree, Tobio offers, “I can leave you alone, if you want me to.”

“No,” Suga replies, and the urgency with which he grabs Tobio’s hand makes Tobio’s heart leap into his throat. “Just. Stay for a bit.”

Tobio nods silently, his stomach twisting into knots at the easy way Suga threads his fingers through Tobio’s. He wonders, distantly, if Suga can feel his pulse in his wrist, if his heartbeat is echoing around the woods. Maybe they needed to do this, he thinks. Maybe Suga needed to know where he stood, maybe you have to stumble before you can walk as steadily as he does– be it away, or towards something.

Tobio thinks, _this is what is feels like to try,_ and he squeezes Suga’s fingers in his.

 

\--

 

Today is hiking trail day, and while they’re essentially stuck in a flat basin of the lake, they are surrounded by equally flat but also equally treacherous forest.

Tobio would not have called the forest treacherous at first glance. Its trees are tall and spread wide enough that it doesn’t feel looming or too dark. The branches above cast enough shade for the afternoon sun not to beat down on them so hard, though Suga still swipes his usual excessively gloopy sunscreen on all the kids’ faces before they leave (and one extra swipe playfully down the length of Tobio’s nose. Tobio still hasn’t rubbed it in).

There seems to be some semblance of a trail. The bushes at their knees seem parted, having been tread on at least a few times before, though the thicket grows as they make their way through. They’re aiming for the other side of the lake, the deeper end where they’ve got a shed with inflatable rafts and some old canoes, but Tobio has already lost his sense of direction. It’s this feeling of imbalance that makes him obey immediately the way Suga grabs his arm suddenly to stop him.

“This isn’t right,” he mumbles, more to himself than to Tobio, and Tobio flinches awfully when the sound of Tanaka’s scream warbles back to them from way up at the front of the trail. It reminds Tobio of horror films, primal and out of control. He steps unthinkingly backwards into Suga, his shoulder blades bumping into Suga's chest.

“Damnit,” Suga hisses, and then he turns, still holding onto Tobio’s elbow. “Alright, kids, back. We ended up on the wrong path again.”

“ _Again_?” Tobio asks, his heartbeat pounding in his throat. Tanaka now sounds like he’s sobbing, and Nishinoya begins wailing in agony too. Tobio turns to glance up ahead and catches Sawamura looking rather bluntly fed up, sighing in Suga’s general direction. The innate calmness of both Sawamura and Suga makes Tobio’s pulse slow down a little.

“Why do we let them lead?” Sawamura groans from behind him, and Suga pays not much attention to the screams at their backs. The kids don’t even seem all that fazed. Suga only glances up when Tobio wriggles his arm in Suga’s grip so he can hold onto his hand instead, give himself something to squeeze.

 

They end up on the other side of the lake eventually, as it was apparently closer than trying to trek back to Karasuno base, and Suga seems to have a much better sense of direction than Azumane and Tanaka do. Tanaka is currently laid out on the sandy banks, half rolled off of a towel, while Suga covers his legs in aloe vera gel, the kind he uses to treat the burned shoulders of the kids who stay out in the sun for too long. He’s making a hell of a fuss for what Tobio assumed was a near death experience, but turned out to only be a thick patch of poison oak. Nishinoya at least looks a little more abashed, thanking Suga for handing him the gel to apply to his own shins. Hinata seems to have forgone all of this and instead opts to sit cross legged in the shallow parts of the lake, though Tobio hadn't seen him itching much at all. Azumane wore jeans, which was probably a wise decision, considering apparently they do this every year. He is with Sawamura tending to the kids, who are having much less intense reactions to being told not to scratch their itches. You’d think Suga were telling Tanaka not to breathe air for a while with his lack of composure.

“Suga! Don’t leave me here!”

“I’m going to get another towel wet so I can wrap it around your legs, calm down,” Suga says, as consolingly as he can be for being so clearly irritated with the whole situation. Tanaka flops backwards and yells between gritted teeth. He grunts when Nishinoya laughs at him.

Tobio watches Suga wrap a towel he dipped into the lake around both of Tanaka’s shins, and then he gets up to leave him to flop around like a fish stuck out of the water. Tobio must be frowning deeply at him, because Suga mistakes his expression for concern when he approaches him.

“He’ll be fine,” Suga says quietly, as he pushes gently at Tobio’s shoulder to get him to face him. “Let me see,” Suga says, tugging on Tobio’s wrists. 

“It can sometimes brush the backs of your hands,” Suga explains, as he examines Tobio’s fingers and then his knuckles, grip sure but still gentle around his wrists. “Wouldn’t want to mess up your tosses now, would we?”

It takes Tobio a moment to notice the teasing smirk. It shocks him a little how easy it is– to let go of… whatever it was that happened the other night. To let Suga prod him in what would otherwise be weak spots. No one can hear them, their kids are off assisting Sawamura or playing with the others that dodged the brush.

“I think you kept me in line,” Tobio mumbles, and wonders in quiet awe at the way Suga’s face heats up, a subtle but very visible dusting of pink brightening along his cheekbones.

“Well,” Suga says, dropping Tobio’s hands. He looks back at the kids as if he intends to go help them, but then turns back to Tobio and takes a deep, meaningful breath.

“I need to apologize for the way I’ve been acting,” he says, and before Tobio can protest, he holds up a firm hand and says, “I need you to know I will not walk away from you, or from them. You’re safe with me, got it?”

“Got it,” Tobio croaks, his throat tight with a confusing mix of relief but also nerves that Suga might have been easily able to tell how scared Tobio was in the woods.

“Good,” Suga grins, and Tobio exhales the breath he’d been holding.

 

The kids flail around on an inflatable raft for a while that Tobio is in no mood to try and wrangle himself, so Suga ends up chaperoning that particular disaster. It looks like a blow up mattress to Tobio, if he’s honest. Tobio ends up snorting at the way they all topple over after not even two minutes– at the way Suga surfaces from the water gasping and heaving. It’s amusing to see him so taken aback. Hinata, pokes him when he hears it, as if him laughing is a big deal, so Tobio covers his face and forces it back to neutrality just so Hinata doesn’t have the pleasure of mocking him for it later. He probably will regardless, but still.

Sawamura puts together a tripod he’d folded and packed into his rucksack. They pin it into the sand, and then all try and fit into one frame for a photograph. Suga reaches up to wrap his arm around Tobio’s shoulder, and Tobio’s arm fits so easily around Suga’s waist. Suga is on the balls of his feet to accommodate for the height difference, so his tshirt lifts just enough that Tobio’s fingers brush a strip of bare skin near his stomach. Part of him wants to shrink away, worried Suga will feel the thud of his heartbeat where they’re touching, but another wants to hold him tighter– maybe blame it on the promise he gave him. He’s had too many friendships that never lasted. And it never really occurred to him that he could expect something different.

 

\--

 

“How about fireworks?”

“Yeah! Or a bonfire with fireworks _coming out_ of it!”

“Do you two actually have a death wish or do you enjoy torturing your seniors?” Tsukishima deadpans as he pays the remnants of his breakfast more attention than Tanaka and Nishinoya, both of whom are excitedly planning… something.

“You would know if you picked your head up once in awhile,” Tanaka snaps, and Tsukishima’s response is a barely visible shrug.

“Know _what_?” Tobio asks, more to Hinata than to the two loudmouths opposite them. All of the senior counselors are off for a meeting with the head of the camp. Even the Nekoma seniors aren’t on their side of the mess hall.

“It’s Azumane’s last year here,” Hinata says sadly, and he’s loud enough that Nishinoya overhears him.

“Suga’s too,” Nishinoya adds abruptly.

“Yeah,” Tanaka chimes in, the force of his tone oddly possessive. “The fireworks were for him because he likes the sparkly shit.”

“Spark _lers_.”

“Those are very different from the fireworks you’re talking about,” Tsukishima mutters offhandedly.

“Whatever,” Tanaka says, looking back down at the scribble of a list they’ve been making all morning long. “Counselor camp night has to be extra special for them.”

Tobio at least knows about this much– counselor camp night is where all the counselors get a break to camp away from the kids while the parents take their places, and while the camp leaders and coordinators make up appearances. It’s the last night of camp, and it’s apparently going to be more meaningful than Tobio had been expecting. Suga is leaving…

“Why is it his last year?” Tobio asks, leaning towards Nishinoya this time, and he hopes he understands who he’s asking about without having to clarify.

“He’s going back to university. He didn’t tell you?”

“No,” Tobio thinks, and then wonders if he’s worthy of the information. For all that his enthusiasm might imply, Suga probably assumed he’d never see Tobio again after this year, even if he were to return.

Tobio decides he wants to change that. At the very least, he wants Suga to understand that Tobio doesn't intend to walk away from him either. 


	3. Chapter 3

There is a curfew on camp that is enforced mainly for the kids, but it is an unspoken rule that the counselors also adhere to it. However, Hinata has slipped out from their dorm for the third time this week, and Tobio feels restless with the silence in their shared room. It’s not that late, curfew is still a few minutes off, and Tobio finds himself glancing out the window near his bed, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. There’s a figure down by the sandy part of the lake, near where the volleyball net is still pitched, their shadow darkened by the setting sun.

By the time Tobio gets up the courage to go out and see who it is, Hinata still has not returned, and the horizon is fading from orange to purple to blue. Tobio shoves a hoodie over his head and quietly makes his way down to the bank as discretely as possible.

It makes sense that it’s Suga out here, and Tobio would be lying if he said he hadn’t hoped, but seeing him here alone makes Tobio curious. He’s sitting on the sand now, knees pulled to his chest as he watches somewhere out in the water. His expression is distant yet calm, and Tobio clears his throat gently so as not to startle him.

Suga looks back to him and is clearly surprised, but the expression clears into a smile just as quickly.

“Hey,” Suga says warmly to him.

“Wanna toss for me?” Tobio mumbles self consciously, hands stuffed in the hoodie's pocket, kicking the ball nestled in the sand near the pole. He thinks quickly, for the sake of excuses, and adds, “I need to work on my spikes.”

Suga’s smile turns into a beaming grin, his hair backlit from the moonlight, and he lifts his hand so Tobio can help him up.

“I would love to,” he says.

The summer evenings are cool enough out here to be tolerable, but being so close to the lake makes it more humid, so Tobio sheds his hoodie early and is sweating by about their tenth set. They take turns chasing after the ball after Tobio hits it, though Suga seems less out of breath than he does.

The air around them is thick with warm silence, and every heave of Tobio’s breath, every grunt as the fat of his palm meets the ball, feels significant. Suga adapts to his somewhat rigid style of spiking quick enough that they develop a sort of rhythm between them– it’s as if when Suga inhales and lifts upwards Tobio is there, ready to exhale and push forwards. There’s this static energy coursing between them, one that sparks whenever their fingers brush over a fumbled ball or lifting the net, and Tobio isn’t sure if it’s the hot air or something else. It feels like it could be something else, which is frightening, in a way. Tobio isn’t very good at handling a sense of hope. Good things must be _earned_.

Suga eventually ends up out of breath, and they pause while Tobio lifts his tshirt to wipe the sweat from his face. He almost doesn’t hear the quiet way Suga says, “You’re so damn talented.”

Tobio lets the dirtied hem of his shirt fall from his face and he takes the water bottle Suga always carries with him.

“Thanks,” he mumbles shyly.

Suga gazes at him, and although he’s still smiling wide and exhausted, there’s a note of sadness to his voice when he asks Tobio, “You’re really going to do this, huh?”

“Do what?” Tobio asks.

“Volleyball.”

“Yes,” Tobio replies, and it is the easiest question for him to answer.

Tobio swallows a shaky gasp when the backs of Suga’s fingers brush his bare abdomen, Suga tugging on his tshirt to fix it back into place.

“You’re going to be great,” Suga says, and he reaches up to wipe a few stray sweaty strands of hair from Tobio’s eyes. The contact would usually make Tobio flinch, but he can’t seem to move– can’t look away from Suga's intent but caring smile, and it hits him like a punch to the chest.

He genuinely cares for this person.

This person that seems to also care for him in return– and he’s leaving. He hasn’t said anything about it to Tobio, so maybe it isn’t as grave a departure as the others had made it sound, but then something has been plaguing Suga’s mind out here, and maybe this would explain some of it.

Tobio flops back down to the sand, petulantly avoiding the inevitable walk back to their dorm rooms, and Suga doesn’t press him to get up or go, only sits neatly next to him, his legs folding beneath each other. Tobio hands him his water bottle back, and Suga’s thumb traces the rim where his mouth had just been and then fits the nozzle easily between his own lips, without hesitation. Tobio feels it like a weakness spreading outwards from his bones, infecting his muscles, making him shiver. He’s so attracted to Suga that it aches a little– the mole beneath his eye, the delicate bow of his upper lip, the muddled pink of his cheeks. Even Suga's neck, sheened in sweat and almost blue from the rising moonlight, looks like something Tobio might happily press his mouth to.

Tobio flashes hot at the implications of that, and covers this feeling by blurting, “Tanaka-san told me you’re leaving. That, um, this is your last year.”

“Yep,” Suga answers briskly, dropping the bottle into his lap to look far out over the lake again. He seems content to leave it at that, but Tobio pushes.

“You said you have stuff on your mind. Is that it?”

Suga sighs, though he’s smiling a little, so Tobio doesn’t take it as exasperation, but rather that he’s about to impart some important wisdom on to Tobio. Mentor him, so to speak. Suga actually seems to enjoy explaining things to him, for whatever reason.

“There’s a lot of pressure on young people to decide what they want to be for the rest of their lives,” Suga begins, pushing his feet out into the sand, spreading his knees wide to encircle the motion of his hands, like laying out facts on the ground in front of them. “And typically at an age where I think most people aren’t equipped to even make that kind of a decision yet.”

Tobio watches Suga’s hands, follows the fall of his fingertips when he stops gesticulating to let his wrist lay limp over his knee.

“I know what I want to be,” Tobio mutters offhandedly.

“And that’s great!” Suga says, turning to him with such enthusiasm that it startles Tobio into looking up towards him. “But what if you change your mind?”

Tobio falters, glancing back down at Suga’s hand and then towards the sand. He has thought about it, there’s no use in lying. That kind of bravado isn’t needed here, under the rising moon with Suga’s arms spread wide– an open book.

“I changed _my_ mind,” Suga says, “and it was just… not good timing. My parents thought I was going off the rails, I was confused, my friends were all changing or staying way too much the same.”

“Sounds like high school,” Tobio says quietly.

“It does, actually,” Suga says, grinning crookedly at Tobio when Tobio glances a look up again. “Felt like it too, at the time.”

Suga has turned almost completely to face him in the sand now, his one knee almost touching Tobio’s hip. They’re so close that even in the dark Tobio could count Suga’s eyelashes if he wanted to– which is embarrassingly something he thinks he might want to do, so he keeps his gaze down as much as possible, traces blind patterns in the sand with his fingers. When he speaks, at least, he is respectful enough to look Suga in the eye.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks.

Suga smiles on a heavy exhale, something like a mirthless laugh. “I still don’t know. But I’m going to try and figure it out, stay undeclared for a while, get my feet wet again.”

Tobio nods, and though he isn’t exactly counting lashes, he can’t quite seem to look away from Suga’s eyes.

“So, you know what you want to be, huh? Professional volleyball? National team?”

Tobio nods, looking back down towards the sand. “Something like that.”

Suga prods him about schools he’s been applying to, and asks him about his experiences with scouts, if he’s had any yet and by the fourth or fifth time Tobio fails to conceal a yawn, Suga finally makes him stand up. His limbs feel heavy with exhaustion, sweat from the impromptu practice cooling sticky on his skin, but he’ll shower in the morning, that doesn’t matter. It’s warm out here– Tobio can’t recall a time ever being this comfortable talking about his own future.

“You know, the reason I kept coming back here was because it was the only thing I was happy to have stay exactly the same,” Suga says conversationally as they walk back towards the row of dorms.

Tobio thinks it couldn’t possibly stay the same, nothing ever does, so he asks, “Is it still the same now?”

Suga looks intently at Tobio this time, slowing his stride. He shakes his head and says quietly, “Not anymore.”

Tobio flinches, hunches his shoulder and allows his gait to let him get a little bit ahead of Suga. He slows when Suga tugs on his elbow unthinkingly.

“Is that a bad thing?” Tobio asks beneath his breath, disguising his breathlessness as fatigue.

Suga smiles, though this time somewhere Tobio isn’t meant to see it, off to the side as he lets go of Tobio’s arm. “Not at all,” he says.

The earth feels quiet, settled out here in the dark, and it takes all the effort Tobio has not to lean into the way Suga cups the side of his face when they get to his dorm. He says goodnight on a intimate whisper, intended to keep Sawamura from waking, and Tobio feels like he’s floating back to his own room.

 

\--

 

Hinata is certainly not shy about making it known he is unhappy to have to catch and cook his own meal on fishing day. Sawamura explains it’s a camp tradition, a rite of passage in its own way, and Tobio doesn’t see the big deal. It’s probably because Hinata has a mouth like a black hole, and whatever paltry fish he’s capable of catching on his own will not satiate his hunger, not in the slightest.

Each of the kids get their own wooden poles, not much more than a line tied to the end of a stick. Suga assists Tobio in untangling the mess for their kids, and then helps the small girl with wildly frizzy hair tie her plastic lure to the end of her string. There’s no hooks, so it’s unlikely they’ll catch anything as much as it is thankfully unlikely that they’ll injure themselves, but Tobio still flinches in worry the first time she whips the thing forward into the water. His hands instinctively reach out to cup around her small head, lest the lure get tangled in her messy hair, but she’s fine. He scowls when he turns to see Suga laughing fondly at him beneath his breath.

“You hold it like this,” Suga says, standing behind Tobio and bracketing his body with his own once they've got all their kids situated. He’s got one hand held over Tobio’s on the mechanism near the base of the pole, and he’s using his own body to guide Tobio’s form into a casting pose. The counselor poles are _very_ real, and their hooks are very sharp. Someone has to actually catch them food to eat, he figures.

“Watch out–” he grunts, when his hook flies what he considers a little too close to one of the kids.

Suga _tsk_ ’s at him, says, “They’re half a field away from us, don’t worry so much. You won’t break them.”

Tobio would grumble more about this, but then Suga pushes Tobio’s arm with his own and at the very last minute flicks his wrist forward causing the line to whip into a satisfying _snap_. His hook lands, the lure keeps it floating out in the distance, and Tobio bites down on a grin at the smug look on Suga’s face.

Suga moves to assist Hinata, who is completely useless when it comes to hand-eye coordination. It would probably be better if he just closed his eyes and let Suga cast for him, what with the way the hook keeps getting dangerously tangled somewhere around his ankles. Azumane looks like he’s going to need a stiff drink after this, wiping sweat from his brow constantly as he carefully unravels Hinata from the mess every time.

Tobio watches with a simmer of something like jealousy when Suga walks up behind Hinata, mirrors his stance the way he had with Tobio before, but there’s something different about it, something more clinical. Perhaps Suga, too, is afraid of having his skin ripped into by an errant hook. Once Hinata’s line is safely cast, Azumane shuffles him down the banks to ensure he is the furthest from the children. This ends up with him standing right next to Tobio, of course.

After spending what feels like hours enduring Hinata’s manic commentary about how fishing is not a viable source of food for growing boys– ( _“And girls!”_ Michimiya shouts from where she’s assisting Sawamura with the kids and untangling their lures)– Tobio finally snags something. It feels like a brick made of lead when he tries to reel it in, but the tension in the line slips the minute it's out of the water. Tobio nearly ends up smacking Hinata upside the head with the blunt end of his pole when he starts cackling in laughter. It’s _tiny_.

“A sweetfish!” Suga says, jogging over to him. “This is great for the grill, good job,” he says, squeezing Tobio’s neck and tilting to grin up at him. Tobio fights the blush as best he thinks is possible as he continues to tip his head down in embarrassment, and scowls when Hinata can’t seem to conceal his snickering laughter.

Suga doesn’t bother with unhooking the thing, just cuts the line and sticks it in their bucket to take to Sawamura and Ukai– who for the first time during the whole camp is actually bothering to supervise this particular event. He seems to be the one doing the unhooking and gutting, much to Hinata’s relief.

That night at dinner, Tobio suspects that Ukai had perhaps brought in a cooler of his own full of fish that he may or may not have bought in. Sawamura is constantly manning the grill with Kuroo, and Tobio is positive they didn’t manage to catch this much themselves. Unless the Nekoma counselors are secretly fishing geniuses, which you might assume is the case, considering how much Hinata keeps mooning about them– or one of them in particular.

“This one was mine,” Suga says, lifting his bowl and carefully pushing some juicy looking white fish onto his plate. “Grouper. Hideous thing alive, but I seasoned it myself.”

Suga lifts a piece of it from Tobio’s plate towards Tobio’s mouth, and without thinking much Tobio parts his lips and accepts it.

“Sweet,” Tobio mumbles after a few chews disintegrates the delicate fish, and Suga nods eagerly with a smile.

“My marinade,” Suga says, lifting his hand to swipe a smudge of it away from the corner of Tobio’s mouth. Tobio does his best to hide the way he shivers. “Always add a little sugar.”

 

\--

 

Craft day is a special kind of nightmare. They’re making a long paper mural that they’ll tack to the front of the office for the remainder of camp, and it ends up being a long, chaotic mess of glue and paper and finger paint. Tobio doesn’t have much of an interest in participating, so he sits next to Suga and does his best to tune out the overly enthusiastic way everyone seems to be ranting and raving about their sections and how much better theirs will be than everyone else’s. Tobio doesn’t know how to draw, so he figures he’d be best as a sort of silent supporter.

Tobio is stuck vaguely examining his knees and noticing he has a subtle but still somehow distinctly visible tan line from where he would usually wear his kneepads. The fact he’s noticing that it’s fading is what initially caught his attention, though it’s abruptly pulled upward to the rest of the craft table at Hinata’s sudden otherworldly screech.

“I have to fit too!”

“Four person tents cost a _fortune_!” Tanaka yells back, and Tobio squints across the table at them.

“We’ll make it work,” Azumane declares, and then focuses back on the creaky old picnic table they’re sitting on outside. There’s a plastic sheet protecting the old wood from copious amounts of shredded felt and glitter. Arts and crafts have always made Tobio feel slightly on edge.

“Well, I only have a two person tent,” Sawamura says, and then glances guiltily to both Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Tsukishima looks like he couldn’t care less, focusing instead on twisting a pipe cleaner into some vaguely offensive shape, but Yamaguchi looks concerned.

Something in Tobio’s stomach lurches. Counselor camp night is only a few days away, a night with no kids. _And a two person tent_.

“Is that what we have?” Tobio says, turning to ask Suga, who has one of the younger girls perched in his lap, spreading paint around a torn up paper bag with her bare hands.

“Mhm,” Suga says absently as he adjusts the little girl's posture in his lap so she isn’t sinking away from him.

“What if we take _two_ two-person tents and cut a hole in the ends of them and stick them together,” Nishinoya pipes up, clearly inspired, though Tobio can’t seem to look away from Suga, actively trying his best to hide any indication of panic.

“That’s wasteful,” Azumane sighs, and Tanaka says something about “I’m not sleeping with your gross feet next to my beautiful face!” but Tobio tunes it out in favor of catching the way Suga peers at him.

“Is that okay?” Suga asks him, voice pitched so only he and the girl in his lap will hear over the raucous noise of the craft table. “I can sleep outside in a sleeping bag, it isn’t a problem.”

“No!” Tobio says, and it takes him a moment to catch on to the fact that he’d almost yelled the word. Even Hinata pauses in making his swirling mess of a painting. Tobio feels a small bead of sweat gather at his temple and somehow inexplicably knows Suga will see it and know exactly why it shouldn’t be okay at all. He decides to focus on other things, move away from the topic of sharing confined spaces with a boy whose soft skin and guiding hands he can’t seem to get out of his head.

Onaga, the boy who had immediately taken to Tobio at the beginning of camp, sits to Tobio’s right, staring at his section of the paper as though he might burn holes through it.

“What are you going to do?” Tobio asks, nudging him gently in the side.

Onaga huffs, puts his weight on his elbows and rests his chin in his hands on the table. “I don’t know.”

“No ideas?”

Onaga shakes his head.

“Hmm,” Tobio thinks, and he glances to his other side where Suga juggles keeping the girl in his lap steady and leaning forward to watch Tobio and Onaga interact. Knowing he’s watching only motivates Tobio to ensure he does this right.

“What’s your favorite part of camp?” Tobio asks briskly, nudging Onaga again, just enough that his head wobbles weakly in his hand.

He perks up at this, turns with a sly grin and proclaims, “Food!”

“Okay," Tobio says, "what kind of food?”

Onaga thinks on this, glaring again at the paper. “Dinner,” he says, very seriously, and Tobio reaches back to pinch Suga in the thigh when he can hear him laugh quietly.

Tobio tries not to let his amusement show, as dinner is clearly no joke to Onaga, and he asks, “Not sweets?”

Tobio eyes Michimiya as she helps a younger girl glue down old candy wrappers to her part of the paper and thinks this would be much easier than trying to imprint meat on it somehow.

“No,” Onaga says firmly, “Dinner.”

“Right,” Tobio trails off, somewhat lost for ideas. He turns back to send a pleading glance to Suga, just in time for Suga to smack a pack of markers down on the table in front of Tobio.

“They’re scented,” Suga whispers, warm and slowly enunciated, right into Tobio’s ear. “Not exactly dinner scents, but still. You can pretend.”

Tobio nods sagely, his neck tingling from the warmth of Suga’s breath, and he fumbles his way through the package of markers. He takes out the brown one, uncaps it and ignores the obvious cinnamon scent.

“Draw your very best dinner,” Tobio commands, refusing to feel awkward about it, and relaxes a fraction when Onaga takes it quite happily and begins scribbling on the page.

Tobio watches, the crease between his brow deepening as Onaga’s scribbles get more and more abstract.

“That doesn’t look like dinner,” Tobio whispers, as discrete as possible, over his shoulder to Suga.

Suga hooks his chin over Tobio’s shoulder, the soft outward curls of his silver hair tickling Tobio’s cheek, as he whispers back, “It doesn’t have to. That’s the beauty of children, nothing has to be accurate.”

“Right,” Tobio croaks, resisting the urge to lean back into Suga.

Their section of the paper has a clear divide between where Suga had been chaperoning ideas and where Tobio’s lackluster direction begins, but it’s completed– it’s whole. For the first time, being one of the worst doesn’t feel like a bad thing. He’s a part of something bigger, is all.

 

\--

 

That night Hinata was absent from their table at dinner, though Tanaka and Nishinoya were more than loud enough to make up for it. Azumane glanced around a few times, but it was the lack of a small, loud presence at his side that had Tobio looking for him.

He wouldn’t have said anything to him then… it doesn’t matter that Hinata wasn’t at dinner, because something _happened_ during dinner that Tobio definitely did not want announced to the entire table, but he’s hoping Hinata is at least in their dorm so he can ask him what it means when someone casually rests a hand on your thigh while you eat. Or, rather, if that means anything at all. He isn’t sure why Hinata might know, except to confirm that this something Kenma has done to him, and that it’s normal, friendly behavior.

Hinata is in their dorm, sitting cross legged on his bed as he stares down at his phone, and Tobio exhales heavily in relief.

“You could have said you were going to stay in, idiot, I would’ve brought some food back for you– Hinata?”

Tobio stops dead after shutting their door behind him, because Hinata lifts his face up from his phone and quickly looks over the side, wiping at his eyes. He’s… upset?

“It’s our last week, you know?” Hinata says, by way of what Tobio assumes is some kind of explanation, though the thickness of his voice makes Tobio even more confused.

“Did something happen?” Tobio asks carefully, dropping his bag as quietly as he can to the side of his bed while he sits on it stiffly, as if this conversations requires posture. His leg tingles where Suga’s hand had been, and he squeezes it to make the sensation stop.

“No,” Hinata almost whines, and Tobio braces himself to be yelled at or corrected, but all Hinata does is wipe at his eyes again and start slightly more assured. “It’s kind of cruel, don’t you think?”

Tobio tries to think. He’d known the schedule when he signed up for this, it was all laid out very bare. Tobio is unsure of whether or not Hinata thinks the camp is too long or too short, but they’d all known this was coming. The end is near them now.

Tobio’s instinct is to disagree, but then he thinks about how he deals with the kids, how you can try to coax information out of them by encouraging them that you’re listening, so he says, “What’s cruel about it?”

“It’s like…” Hinata begins, and then makes an awful noise like he can’t quite speak the words, clears his throat and takes a deeper breath and tries again, “It’s like you give kids this small slice of paradise that seems like only a memory when it’s done. You give kids the opportunity to be brave and try new things and if they don’t actually do it, they’ll regret it. They’ll remember the most what they didn’t get a chance to do.”

He says it with such wild conviction that Tobio is sure there’s something in here he’s missing, some key component that makes this sound more cruel than, well… like every other day of his life.

“Is Kenma not returning to camp either?” Tobio asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

Hinata laughs, though it sounds more pained than amused. “No, he is. It’s just–” he sighs, pulls at his hair for a bit and tosses his phone off to the side of his bed, “–whatever.”

It’s strange for any amount of negativity to linger around Hinata for this long. That’s usually Tobio’s gig, and Hinata loves making fun of him for it, but this doesn’t seem like an appropriate time to be teasing. He almost tells Hinata he can talk to him about this, even though that’s technically what they’re already doing, though verbalizing it seems to cross some unspoken boundary they haven’t quite discussed yet.

“Just… look forward to next year,” Tobio says, as he crawls underneath his own covers, and he hopes the bitter tinge to his words go unnoticed.


	4. Chapter 4

Tobio is gentler with Hinata after that night, though he isn’t entirely sure he needs to be, as nobody else treats him any differently. Suga asks Tobio once, discretely, if Hinata is alright, after the third instance of him sitting out on an activity claiming he ‘feels ill’, but Tobio gives a vague answer and a shrug, so Suga doesn’t push it farther than that.

What’s interesting is Hinata stares more longingly at his phone than at Kenma, which is what Tobio assumes is the root of the problem here. Even when they’re sharing the mess hall, or the rec center, and Kenma is only a few feet away– he either obsessively flips open and closed his phone, or he stands somewhat shyly nearby Kenma. He catches them holding hands a few times, but with the amount of full body tackles Tobio has been at the mercy of thus far, he figures Hinata is just an excessively tactile person.

What he said, though… that begins to sink in.

He still isn’t sure he understands why it’s cruel. What’s cruel is not telling someone you never plan to return, not until the last minute, not until they’ve only just begun to start untangling the mess of their feelings. But not wanting to leave– or rather, not wanting to leave things unfinished– he gets that much.

Tobio decides then– with shivering, threadbare conviction– to tell Suga how he feels about him. The whole bit, he’ll explain it all.

_‘I think I like it when you leave your hands on me for too long’_

_‘I think about you before I go to sleep’_

_‘I disagree with Tanaka, Kiyoko-san is not the most beautiful person at the camp– you are’_

_‘I have thought about kissing you before and I want to try it. I’m sorry’_

There’s any number of ways Tobio can stuff this up and scare Suga away, or gross him out, or worse. But it has to be done. The chances of him not seeing Suga after this are high, and if Tobio has experience with any of what Hinata is dealing with, it’s regrets. He refuses to admit he didn’t go for something he wanted, even though he technically has, many times in the past. It’s time to take control of that.

 

Tobio arrives at Suga’s cabin that evening just before curfew, hoping to catch him alone or at least convince him to chat somewhere privately. When he gets there, Suga’s door is partly open, and Tobio carefully pushes it further to peer in and see Suga slipping on a hoodie.

“Sorry,” Tobio says, as Suga’s somewhat startled eyes meet his.

“Oh,” Suga gasps, and he opens the door where Tobio had begun to close it to retreat. “I was just coming to find you.”

Something about Suga seems off. He’s jumpy, though not entirely from being startled.

“You were?” Tobio asks, swallowing his own nerves and trying to appear as normal as possible. “It’s almost curfew,” he states needlessly.

Suga sends him a tilted grin from beneath the fall of his hair, as if this is a secret they share. Tobio’s stomach flops helplessly.

“Don’t sound so shocked,” Suga says quietly. Sawamura is somewhere behind him, and Suga doesn’t want him to hear. The thought of that settles warm in Tobio’s belly, despite the way Suga seems to visibly shake the moment off of himself, going back to frowning down at his clothes.

“Come on,” Suga says, after a moment of fixing himself into his hoodie, pulling Tobio by the grip he has around his elbow. He ignores Sawamura’s demanding shout of, _“Where are you two going?”_

Suga takes him back to the clearing in the woods with the mangled tree. There’s a few more branches and pieces of it missing, it seems. They must have already begun to make the awards for the year end ceremony.

Suga still seems… off. He ponders the tree, looking at it longingly, like maybe he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye to it.

Suga takes a deep, steadying breath and Tobio is caught somewhere between wanting to ask why he looks so troubled, and wanting to ask Suga very nicely if he can kiss him. He’s already preparing excuses and apologies for even asking such a thing in his head, when Suga says, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” Tobio says, pulling away from his thoughts to turn and look at Suga in the rapidly darkening wood. “There’s something I wanted to tell you too, but you can go first.”

Suga laughs at that, which perplexes Tobio a bit, and then he begins to pace tightly back and forth in front of the tree. He drags the hood down over his hair, squeezes the back of his neck, all visibly struggling with whatever it is he has to announce. Tobio is more than a little concerned, though he stands frozen and useless at a distance, as if watching this unravel might be less painful than experiencing it physically– whatever _‘it’_ happens to be.

“I don’t think we can share a tent at the counselor’s camp,” Suga says abruptly, and all the nerves fluttering around in Tobio’s stomach drop like lead.

Tobio frowns deeply, and despite knowing he has no right to ask, says, “Why not?”

Suga grips the back of his neck again, though he stops pacing. He’s looking down, not meeting Tobio’s eyes, and Tobio feels like sinking into the dirt beneath his shoes.

Suga must have figured it out on his own, and he is setting boundaries. He should have expected this.

Looking not unlike he’s about to jump from the ledge of a very tall building, Suga blurts, “Because I have feelings for you,” and all of Tobio’s motor and mental functions come to a complete, skidding halt.

“Did you hear me?” Suga asks quietly, taking a cautious step towards the petrified statue that Tobio has become. “I have feelings for you. Feelings that make it difficult to share a very close space with you. Do you understand me?”

Tobio nods, cursing the way even an action so simple can be so horribly affected by nerves, shaky and awkward. Suga has feelings for him, but what– what can that possibly mean? He hopes– but then–

“Suga, I thought–” Tobio begins, and then stops. His fingers, oddly, feel numb, so he pulls them together at his stomach and squeezes.

_Does this mean I can kiss him without asking?_ Tobio thinks uselessly.

Suga groans, clearly pained by Tobio’s lack of some kind of verbal reaction, and he begins to pace again. “Look, you’re going through your last year of high school right now, and then you get to go off and begin the life you want to live, so this doesn’t have to be an issue– in fact I would rather it didn’t become one.”

Tobio looks at Suga. There is a small, vigilant part of him that wants to argue. That wants to say _‘you could be doing that too, you could have done it sooner but you didn’t, I am not better than you for doing it now’_ , but instead he just gapes uselessly at him.

Suga approaches Tobio carefully, abortively lifting his hand before dropping it to his side, and he says shakily, “Your senior having a weird crush on you is something you will probably encounter more than once in your life.”

Something within Tobio snaps, just this side of confidence, but erring dangerously close to the edge of risk. He pushes, as gently as his wildly trembling hands are capable, until Suga is backed up into the knotted trunk of the tree.

 

He kisses Suga. And he doesn’t ask.

 

Tobio’s hands settle along the curve of Suga’s jaw, and he’s terrified of being pushed away for all of the two seconds it takes for Suga to push a trembling, pained moan into his mouth as he yields to it. Tobio has never kissed anyone before, isn’t sure if he’s doing it right, though by the way Suga grips the collar of his shirt, he can't be that far off. His mouth opens when Suga’s does, he slips his tongue past his lips as soon as he’s able, and there’s this moment– this tiny, delicate exhalation that Tobio can feel, from Suga’s nose against his own upper lip– where Tobio wonders if he will _ever_ feel this good again. He makes his own broken sound against Suga’s mouth at the thought, and then Suga pulls just far enough away to catch the probably stupidly dazed look on his face.

“What was that?” Suga whispers in question to him, and Tobio finds himself thinking, fondly, _‘stupid…’_.

Instead, he clarifies, with an ever-timely mortifying crack in his voice, “That was what I wanted to tell you.”

Suga, this time without worry of being heard, and at the mercy of Tobio’s own shame, throws his head back and laughs.

He stops when Tobio leans in to kiss softly at his neck, at least.

Curfew feels like hours ago.

 

\--

 

They all begin to pack for the counselor’s only camp once the parents arrive and they’ve greeted them. Tanaka and Nishinoya are screaming about Kiyoko-san again– as she seems to have sourced them a four person tent. However, Sawamura isn’t so lucky, and decides rather than trying to cram the three of them into their two person tent, he will sleep outside in the wilderness, claiming it’s good for the soul and that it will be an enriching experience. Tsukishima laughs, for what Tobio might believe is the first time this whole summer, at Sawamura’s clearly failed attempt at swaying them.

Suga packs his own tent, and says nothing about the size of it, nor their sleeping arrangements. For the most part, this is because they already know, and Tobio does his absolute best not to stare at him pack, to not get lost in his own thoughts and to ignore the almost vibrating sense of anticipation creeping up his spine.

 

“Please, let me share it with you,” Tobio had said this morning, after the previous night’s complete lack of discussion on the matter, the both of them too kiss-drunk to really speak after wandering back to their rooms in the early hours of the morning. He grabbed the other end of the box containing the tent that Suga had pulled from one of the storage sheds, back stiff, face set hard and determined.

Suga dropped the damn thing, and let Tobio fumble awkwardly as it fell from his half-grip, and then distracted him from his attempts to pick it back up when he dipped down and stole another kiss. A quick, soft press of lips.

“Of course,” was Suga's barely concealed grin of a response.

 

Now, it feels like a promise. There must be some degree of expectation for Suga, because there certainly is for Tobio. He expects kissing, lots of it. Maybe more than that. The sounds Suga had made when they kissed only conjured up other images- images that made it damn near impossible to get any ounce of sleep.

When Tobio can finally pull himself away from staring as Suga does most of the work packing, he finds Hinata looking more than a little hopeful. It’s possible the distraction of the three older boys will help take his mind off things. At least Tobio hopes as much is true. Some of Nekoma is also going to the camp with them, so maybe he won’t need the distraction.

Suga loads the rucksack onto Tobio, claiming he’s _‘got the build to carry the weight’_ , whatever that means. It is extremely heavy, which clashes with the very light and almost electric feeling that zips through him whenever Suga pushes him into a strap or tightens a buckle over his chest. He finishes piling their gear onto Tobio and then gazes up at Tobio looking so badly like he wants to be kissed that Tobio almost does it without thinking. He feels stupid with this- drunk almost, reckless. Remembering the warm wet of Suga’s mouth makes Tobio feel like his bones are melting, and impossibly that sensation feels amazingly good.

They plan to make a camp about as far away as Sawamura will allow for them to, on the other side of the lake. Miraculously they don’t get lost or eaten alive, all with Azumane’s team leading the way. Sawamura wedges himself between Tsukishima and Yamaguchi as they walk, an arm around each of their shoulders, and surprisingly Tsukishima seems alright with this. Hinata is currently riding Tanaka piggyback, using finger-binoculars to ‘scope out danger’.

Tobio feels Suga’s proximity to him the entire time like static, his arm tingling where it almost constantly brushes against Suga’s. The rucksack is weighing him down, but it honestly feels like he could float if he let his thoughts wander away from him for long enough. There are a few times where Suga very deliberately plays with Tobio’s fingers whenever he drops them from holding onto the straps of the rucksack, and Tobio has to make a concerted effort not to whimper or make another equally incriminating sound whenever he does it.

Their camp, once they get there, is a clearing that’s near a conveniently pre-made fire pit, all kitted out and surrounded by stones, piles of kindling, and a slotted steel plate for grilling. Sawamura stands proud when they all marvel at it. Kuroo and his guys eventually make their way over from another path, and Sawamura grins at him, the two of them familiarly gripping each other’s forearms. _They must have made this together_ , Tobio thinks.

Hinata non discretely, but also somehow still quietly, takes a seat right in front of Kenma when he arrives. The tall boy to his left, Lev, ruffles Hinata’s hair like he’s glad to see him, and Kenma parts his knees and lets Hinata fit quite comfortably on the ground between them. Azumane must know enough to leave him alone with it, because he glances over constantly and only ever ends up smiling at them.

Azumane whips out a guitar as Kuroo and Sawamura pile up more rocks to lay the grill top on as they begin cooking the meat they’d brought. They hand around the fire circle what’s hot as it cooks– slices of beef, chunks of chicken, sweet root vegetables, undercooked but freshly crisp peppers. Tanaka shrieks some semblance of a song along with Azumane’s otherwise very soothing strums. It’s a warm kind of atmosphere.

Everyone seems genuinely comfortable and happy, and being an active part of that– both the group and the feeling– makes Tobio feel like digging his bare toes into the dirt and refusing to leave this campfire when tomorrow comes.

Suga only adds heat to the otherwise warm flicker of the fire at Tobio’s shins by leaning his chin on Tobio’s shoulder and quietly mumbling, “We can walk as far away as we want from the fire once we settle down for the night. Everyone spreads out to sleep.”

 

\--

 

“We’ll get lost if you keep going,” Suga says, tugging on the edge of Tobio’s tshirt to stop him from walking any farther away. He’d practically marched what must have been almost a mile from their makeshift camp, and Suga even seems a little winded by his clear set determination.

Tobio drops the pack he’s been only carrying with one shoulder, twinging at the ache for only a moment before he steps towards Suga, gripping either side of his face to lean down so he can kiss him finally. He follows the way Suga stumbles backwards, smiles helplessly when Suga laughs into his mouth.

Suga grabs a hold of his wrists to steady himself more than anything else, and says, “You have no patience.”

Tobio has nothing to say to that except to kiss him until his lips are sore from it, but Suga stops him by pushing gently at his shoulders.

“The tent won’t pitch itself,” he says, and Tobio, on a pure whim of confidence, lifts his tshirt over his head and uses it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. The nights are warm, even without walking over a mile in the muggy parts near the lake, and it’s worth the way Suga’s eyes go heavy with want, the way his gaze feels like an actual physical weight on him.

Suga tries to help him do the tent, but Tobio has it in his mind that he needs to impress him, so he gently refuses every time. By about the fourth inelegant snap of the poles he can’t seem to keep extended he finally, bashfully accepts the help. Once they have it up Suga kisses Tobio’s bare shoulder, and then climbs right into it with the singular sleeping bag and the blanket they’d brought with them.

A two person tent is really more like a barely roomy one person tent, Tobio thinks, as he wedges himself up against the edge of the nylon. Suga had unzipped the sleeping bag and stuffed it into the bottom of the tent, and is currently situating the blanket over top of it for them to share. He has a battery powered lantern that he hangs from a loop at the peak of the tent. It doesn’t cast a whole lot of light, barely any at all, but it seems to give the illusion of warmth, bounces off the tan material of the tent to cast Suga’s soft expression in orange shadow.

Tobio sinks down onto his side as he watches Suga pull his own tshirt up off over his head, and he thinks, absently, about how beautiful he is. Tobio’s shirt is already off, so it leaves him to rest his head on his own bicep and watch. Suga seems almost coy, the way he slips out of his shirt, the rumpled state of his hair gone unnoticed. He does something beneath the blanket, turning away from Tobio, and Tobio notes, with no small amount of awe, that Suga has a similar mole to the one on his face on his back, right below his shoulder blade. It shifts as his skin does, pulling over the sharp, elegant bone, and then settling when he moves back to sit. Suga turns then, leaning his weight on a forearm as his hand presses against Tobio’s bare chest.

They say this kind of moment is important, one you will remember for the rest of your life, the most important first- and while Tobio agrees, he isn’t scrambling to hold onto any of the memories, doesn’t really have the brain capacity to compartmentalize that way right now. There are, however, some things that will inevitably end up etched into Tobio’s brain, things he won’t ever be able to forget.

“You’re beautiful,” Tobio says, because he’s been thinking it, and he doesn’t know what else to say to capture the delicacy of this moment. Suga even blushes when he says it, dipping his head, and Tobio gasps as Suga’s warm fingers begin to undo the drawstring of his sweats.

Things he _can’t_ forget, he’s sure of it– like the way Suga’s shirt pulled over his hair, how it ruffled it messily, unkempt but soft enough that Tobio still aches to run his fingers through it. The slow reveal of skin up the length of his spine, the mole on his back and the other one he has on the inner part of his arm.

Suga pushes on Tobio’s sweats, but moves back, and as Tobio wordlessly takes over undressing himself, he glances down beneath the blanket to catch another, singularly breathtaking mole right at the center of Suga’s very bare thigh.

Tobio kicks out of his clothes, cursing the way every inch of him seems to tremble, and he pulls Suga down by the neck- and then it’s nothing but warm skin and soft sighs, Suga’s mouth seeking his in the dim light, limbs all tangled in flannel and cotton.

“This okay?” Suga asks breathlessly, the soft fall of his silver hair as he hovers over Tobio brushing Tobio’s forehead.

Tobio hums– or grunts, with the way his voice has turned to gravel– and pulls insistently again on his neck.

They kiss, and Suga rolls his body as he presses his mouth to the soft skin in front of Tobio’s ear, whispering his name without really meaning to. Tobio slides his fingers up into the softness of his hair, parts his knees so Suga can fit more comfortably there, and presses his nose into the crook of Suga’s warm shoulder every time they press together. Suga wraps his hand around Tobio- around both of them- and Tobio's eyes flutter closed.

If Tobio were to recall this night years from now, he thinks he would remember it in fragments, if anything. The things he won’t forget, muddled and smudged by the things he might. Hazy memories of Suga’s moan morphing into a laugh when they twist to re situate themselves. When their knees bump as their legs tangle, the hollow thud of bone meeting bone, and then the soft, static sound of skin sliding on skin that follows it as Suga pushes his thigh upward. The way Suga arches in concave, forward and seeking Tobio’s mouth, the way his stomach shivers whenever Tobio touches his hip. The way Suga says his name, half gasping, like _‘Tobio’_ is a breath he’s been holding for too long.

Even the things he won’t forget might turn hazy, things like the hair between Suga’s legs being so much darker than silver, almost black in the shadowed vee, hidden warm beneath blankets. Or the exact color of Suga’s skin, and how it changes at his hip, almost pink– how it’s so soft and pale that Tobio can see the veins beneath. How Tobio swears he can see Suga’s pulse, but he couldn’t tell you where, just that Suga’s skin seems to light up beneath his fingers, shivering alive and wanting.

There is sweat, but it isn’t dirty, nothing about the way Suga’s hair clings to his neck is anything but starkly beautiful, the way the redness in his cheeks seems to shimmer in the dim light cast from overhead. The way Suga moves, shaking, though that might be Tobio himself– it’s too hard to tell.

Tobio feels something within him building, shuts his eyes tight against the feeling, basking in it as much as it terrifies and shakes him to his core. Suga’s voice is higher in pitch, desperate, the fingers of his free hand pulling at Tobio’s shoulder, holding his face, touching all he can seem to reach. Tobio’s thighs quake, and he squeezes tight around Suga’s ribcage when he feels it swell within him, this crescendo of feeling he never, ever wants to forget. He holds onto the feeling, pressing his face even deeper into Suga’s neck as Suga shivers and slowly settles above him.

 

\--

 

Tobio wakes to find Suga’s back to him. He presses his palm to the space between Suga’s shoulder blades and wonders if it’s okay to pull him close. They’re already touching, Tobio’s arm is already pressed along Suga’s side. Suga stirs at Tobio’s touch, and then turns with a sleepy smile that makes Tobio’s chest ache a little.

“Morning,” Suga mumbles, and despite the humid summer morning air, he still pushes closer, burying his nose into the warmth of Tobio’s neck.

Tobio hums instead of opting to speak, pressing his mouth to Suga’s hair.

“We should get up,” Suga sighs against his skin.

Tobio grunts, pulling Suga close. “Don’t want to yet,” he grumbles.

Suga huffs out a laugh and pulls back, reaching up to cup Tobio’s frowning face.

“We’ll be alright,” Suga says, though Tobio doesn’t ever recall wondering whether or not they would be.

 

\--

 

Tobio does his best to mimic the way Suga had efficiently packed all of their stuff for the trip,  but he fails in that the tent seems to have doubled in size when he attempts to roll it back up, and nothing else seems to want to fit around it in the rucksack they’d brought to share. He piles what he can up onto his own shoulders and then does his best not to follow Suga around like a lovesick puppy the instant Suga walks away from him. Suga goes to Sawamura around the remnants of their campfire from the night previous, and Tobio wanders towards Hinata.

Hinata, who– for having recently been more doom and gloom than usual– looks quite happily well rested.

“Your cheeks are red,” Hinata notes, brushing his dirty fingers up the length of Tobio’s cheekbone. Tobio swats him away and goes back to trying to discretely look for Suga. “Did you get sunburnt?”

“No,” Tobio mumbles, and part of him is a little startled to find he _wants_ to tell Hinata what happened, wants his opinion on it, or wants someone else to be as excited about it as he is. Hinata probably wouldn’t be– he would more than likely spend an entire night making fun of him for it– but the urge is still there.

“You did, idiot, your face is super red, especially your mouth. Did you eat Kuroo’s spicy beef?” Hinata probes, leaning obnoxiously close to inspect whatever unusual coloring he seems to find on Tobio’s face.

His mouth had been on Suga’s, almost the whole night. It would be so easy to say it outloud. Instead–

“Stop it,” Tobio growls, spreading his hand to cover the entire width of Hinata’s face and pushing gently but insistently backwards.

Hinata huffs, but doesn’t yell or get angry like Tobio might have expected him too. Instead, he settles on the ground next to Tobio’s knees, leaning into him slightly. Tobio has been too caught up in looking for Suga to notice the way Hinata keeps sighing happily and glancing up at the pieces of the sky visible through the trees.

Tobio nudges Hinata’s thigh with his foot. “You look happy,” he notes quietly.

“Yeah,” Hinata agrees, turning to him with a grin. He glances once down at his phone, and then over towards the huddle of Nekoma counselors standing near Kuroo, and Tobio figures the rest out on his own.

 

–-

 

Back at their dorm, Hinata begins to pack up his clothes, and it throws Tobio off balance that now is the time Hinata has chosen to put on a brave face, particularly as Tobio feels like he’s losing his grip on something important. It’s like they’ve cruelly swapped somehow, and if Tobio puts a little extra aggression into the way he shoves his clothes into his duffel bag, Hinata either doesn’t notice or doesn’t comment on it. For what it’s worth, Hinata seems otherwise distracted, and Tobio kind of wishes he would push and prod at him right now, if only to give him an outlet for his turmoil.

Hinata’s initial assessment of summer camp being like an unfair bubble of happiness now seems apt, only Hinata must have made peace with whatever was bothering him, and now Tobio can think of nothing but what he’ll miss when he goes home. He wishes they could spend another night out on the other side of the lake, even with just the two of them, but there’s the golden branch ceremony to prepare for tomorrow, and some of the staff is leaving early, so they need all the cover they can get.

By the time Hinata is flopped backwards on his bed, his packed bag wedged into the corner by the wall as he grins at the backlit phone screen he holds overhead, Tobio decides he’s not going to sit here and wallow. Whatever Hinata did to fix his mood seems to have worked, and Tobio will be damned if he lets it end this way.

 

–-

 

Tobio sneaks out after Hinata is fitfully asleep and filling the room with his occasional bouts of snoring, and he warily makes his way to Suga and Sawamura’s room. He thinks about moonlight having some meaning to them now, and hopes he can sneak Suga out to the lake to talk about… whatever it is that they’ve become, or could become.

This was a bad idea, Tobio decides, when Sawamura’s half asleep and unhappy face greets him when he knocks quietly.

“It’s past curfew,” Sawamura says, not unkindly. Tobio tries not to wonder why he sounds particularly gentle, or why he’s keeping the door somewhat closed off from Tobio’s view.

“I know, I just. Is he…?”

Sawamura tries, and subsequently fails, to hide an amused smirk.

“He’s asleep and covered in gold spray paint. It can wait until tomorrow.”

Sawamura presses a strong, firm hand to Tobio’s shoulder, turning him back in the direction of his own room.

Tobio turns back when he hears the door creaking shut, bereft and feeling cut loose too soon.

Sawamura catches the look, and sags against the door frame before closing it completely.

“You know, he made sure I paired you two together,” he says, quiet enough that only Tobio can hear him. Tobio assumes this means Suga really is asleep in their room. “He read your application and marked it with a star because he thought you reminded him of himself when he was younger. And then he met you and about had a stroke.”

Tobio frowns, deeper still when Sawamura laughs quietly at his expression.

“What…”

“Just, don’t worry about it. He likes you. But he’s got a lot on his plate.”

Tobio purses his lips together, glances down at the ground and bows in something like an apology, though he isn’t quite sure what for.

“I won’t bother you again,” he says.

“Bother _him_ all you like,” Sawamura mumbles around a yawn. “But not when he’s sleeping, preferably.”

“Yes, sorry,” Tobio says, bowing curtly once more before turning back towards his room, his cheeks aflame in a confusing mix of embarrassed elation.

Suga had chosen him. This thought settles warm in his stomach, and somehow only manages to make sleeping more difficult– Hinata’s tossing and turning not exactly helping the fact.

At least, now, he has confidence. And with that comes an idea.

 

\--

 

The golden branch award ceremony is chaotic and kind of silly, but Tobio has learned to appreciate this aspect of the camp, to embrace the lack of rigidity and accept that not everything has to be a competition, even where awards are involved.

Nakashima, the boy who had initiated the first fight that Tobio had to police near the start of camp, earns his branch for best team spirit, which Tobio beams at, since this one was his suggestion to Suga. Nakashima looks shocked, and his parents look proud, and Tobio tries to keep from whooping or whistling inappropriately.

Hinata wins one for 'best battleroar’ and Tanaka seems oddly proud of this one, while Hinata seems a little confused but nonetheless happy for the attention. Nishinoya all but tackles him, riding him piggyback on their makeshift stage as he walks across it.

“Next up, the golden branch for King of the Court goes to–”

Tobio tenses up, waits and balls his fists in his shorts. This isn’t what he’s here for, he knows that by now, but still he _wants to win_ –

“–Kozume Kenma!”

Kuroo and Hinata both begin simultaneously yelling and whistling supportively as Kenma shuffles onto the stage.

Tobio deflates, and pretends he doesn’t notice Suga watching him closely. There’s only a few counselor awards left.

“The award for most charming smile–” Suga begins, and Tobio quirks his head. It doesn’t make sense. This is one he’d pin Suga for, but it’s Suga that's presenting it. “–goes to Kageyama Tobio.”

Tanaka laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard all year, but not unkindly. Azumane grips Tobio’s shoulder and urges him towards the stage, and Tobio stumbles a little but accepts the branch from Suga, the gold paint already chipping away as the bark crumbles. He hopes he doesn’t look as confused as he feels, and then Suga leans in close and whispers, “this one’s from me,” and Tobio’s entire face goes hot. He has half a moment to hope Suga doesn't notice, which all flies out the window when Suga pinches his cheek into a mimic of a smile, beaming and displaying him out towards the crowd of children and parents. The result harbors a genuine grin, which Tobio quickly conceals with his hand once Suga lets go of him.

Tobio glances warily at Hinata, ready for the onset of teasing he knows is inevitable, only he clocks something entirely different from it by the way his jaw drops.

“You! You _weren’t_ sunburnt at all!” Hinata half-yells, pointing an accusing finger at Tobio's face.

“Be quiet, idiot,” Tobio grumbles beneath his breath.

Tobio watches the mildly crestfallen look on Suga’s face when he wins his branch for 'Most Efficient Poison Ivy Medic’, and smiles at him in what he hopes is as supportive as it is apparently charming. Hinata keeps poking Tobio in the side, and Tobio fights down the urge to shove him sideways, as he’d end up toppling the whole line of counselors over.

After both Suga and Azumane present Sawamura the 'Best Captain’ award (much to Kuroo’s sarcastic and toying disdain) they break for brunch, and Tobio gets to meet some of his kids’ parents. It’s not as awkward as he’d expected it to be– he has real stories to tell about these kids, real successes to note on and real experiences to recall for them– but he can’t help but want to seek Suga out. Once they all begin to dissipate, Tobio decides he will make his move.

 

–-

 

Tobio tells Suga to meet him by the back of the dorms once the sun begins to set. Hinata had pried some of it out of him, and had surprised Tobio in his earnest attempts to help. Suga is usually one of the last to leave, and Tobio has to go on the bus schedule, which is usually overnight to get back into town. He figures he has enough time to wait.

Suga pushes through the brush towards the barely lit back end of camp, and the setting sun seems to light a soft glow around his silver hair, and Tobio thinks this is what it feels like to really have to let go of something you love. It’s a fear he’s had since he’d been told by a few of his seniors that _'volleyball won’t last forever’_ , but not something he’d given much thought to until this very second.

“This is for you,” Tobio says, in lieu of a greeting, fumblingly pressing a branch that’s more like a twig that has been attacked by yellow and orange markers into Suga's chest. Suga glances at it, and then up to Tobio with lifted brows. “Since you got to choose mine,” Tobio clarifies after clearing his throat from being so tight with nerves.

Suga accepts it with a warm smile, the width of it crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“What’s it for?” he asks Tobio.

Tobio swallows and says, “It’s the golden branch for most inspiring mentor.”

Suga’s grin turns into a frown, but oddly enough, not an unhappy one. Tobio has about fifteen seconds to worry that he might’ve crossed some kind of a line with this– albeit a pathetic one, if anything– before Suga launches himself at Tobio, wrapping his arms tight around Tobio’s neck and squeezing.

Tobio doesn’t hesitate to hold him close to his chest, nuzzling his face into Suga’s neck, cataloging the now familiar scent of his hair. Suga’s grip on him doesn’t let up, and then he says, with a voice too tight to be casual, “I’m so happy I got to meet you, Tobio.”

“Don’t,” Tobio mumbles against his skin, shaking his head enough that he knows Suga can feel.

Suga inhales shakily, but Tobio can hear the smile in his voice when says, “That’s all I’ll say, promise.”

Tobio keeps shaking his head into Suga’s neck, and Suga begins rocking them back and forth, and it’s like he knows, without having to be told, how difficult it’s going to be for Tobio to let go of him. Suga eventually pushes back, though not completely out of Tobio’s embrace. Just enough to look at him and smile.

“Thought you of all people might give me best kisser,” Suga says teasingly, his voice still a little wobbly, though his eyes look clear as the morning sky.

Tobio blushes, despite himself. “I didn’t think that would be appropriate,” Tobio mumbles, fitfully ignoring the fact he’d asked Suga to meet him out here in private, all after their night alone in a tent.

“Why orange?” Suga asks on a breathy laugh, pulling the twig from where he’d been holding onto it behind Tobio to examine it between them. “Meant to be bronze, or?”

Tobio _tsk_ ’s in distaste, biting down a smile when Suga grins at his immediate response.

“Couldn’t find the gold paint, and I didn’t want to risk breaking into your and Sawamura-san’s room,” Tobio says, and then quietly adds, “So Hinata found us some markers.”

Suga’s expression shifts momentarily, almost like he wants to berate him for something– perhaps stealing markers, though Hinata had promised to return them to the craft room– but instead leans up to kiss Tobio firm on the mouth.

“I love it,” Suga says, forehead pressed to Tobio’s, sincere as ever.

 

\--

 

Most of the counselors leave the day after the ceremony, after all the kids and parents have cleared out, to help the rest of the camp crew clean up and pack everything away for the season. Ukai hands Tobio the forms to fill out for next year, claiming he’s automatically accepted if he wants to return, and Tobio means it when he says he’ll think about it. If nothing else, returning here will show he has dedication, and that he had actually made some kind of a difference volunteering. More than that, he kind of wants to see some of these kids grow up.

It’s an exceptionally emotional afternoon, especially surrounding the ones who won’t be returning to camp, namely Suga and Azumane, since those are the two most visible to Tobio. Nishinoya has been moping around all morning, and Tanaka keeps trying and failing to cheer him up with how miserable he seems himself. Tobio tries to find Suga alone not long after they break from a breakfast of perishable leftovers, but stumbles upon Suga running his hand over Tanaka’s fuzzy head where it rests on his shoulder, and decides to be respectful and not interrupt.

Instead he sits rather quietly with Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, both who are waiting for the bus, and wonders where Hinata is. It takes him a moment of looking around to spot Hinata bent over a phone with Kenma out near the rec center, leaning close against one of the outer walls. Kenma laughs at something Hinata says, and Tobio thinks it’s the first time he’s seen him look outwardly comfortable with someone else, though he hasn't been paying much attention. Kenma just doesn't seem to smile much, not unlike himself. Part of Tobio hopes Hinata has enough tact not to poke fun of him for it, but that particular bitter part of himself seems watery and tepid now, something that was once hot and alive left alone too long to be forgotten. If nothing else, it feels good to leave those parts behind.

Suga makes his way out to the parking lot where everyone else seems to be either waiting on rides or reluctantly driving off themselves. Tobio worriedly watches the way Suga wipes at his eyes a few times, though he smiles bravely when Azumane pulls him into a hug. Suga pulls a pile of papers tied up in colorful string out of his bag and begins handing them out to everyone. They’re letters, he realizes, when Tanaka opens his immediately and clings to Suga again.

Suga approaches him eventually, though he stops to hand Yamaguchi a letter first. Yamaguchi accepts his with a friendly smile, and Tsukishima only looks moderately offended at having to take one himself, which Tobio thinks is some kind of a victory. Tobio is fully expecting to accept Suga’s letter with a perfunctory hug and to have that be that, but Suga tugs insistently at his hand, pulls him away from the lot until they're beneath the shade of the mess hall.

“Please don’t read it until I’ve left,” Suga says, his voice wispy and light. Tobio frowns at the way Suga’s hand trembles as he gives it to him. There’s a small little heart doodled right where the lip of the fold meets the envelope on the back, and Tobio tucks it carefully into his duffel bag as though it were something delicate.

“Okay,” Tobio agrees, and then he goes easily when Suga tugs on his neck so he can hug him.

They’re still in full view of the parking lot, so Tobio isn’t expecting the soft, intent press of Suga’s lips to his neck, hidden by the angle of their bodies and the fall of Suga’s hair. Tobio squeezes Suga’s side tightly, fisting his jacket without meaning to.

“You’re going to be so great at whatever you choose to do,” Suga half whispers into his skin. “Volleyball… camp counseling.”

Tobio laughs, though it feels forced. It’s better than acknowledging the wetness blurring his vision.

Suga pulls back, dipping his head to catch Tobio’s eyes.

“Are you going to come back?” Suga asks.

Tobio shrugs, reluctantly pulling back from his grip on Suga. He glances back over his shoulder towards Tsukishima sitting neatly between Yamaguchi’s knees, towards Tanaka using Hinata’s fluffy orange hair as an arm rest, and at Hinata himself, chatting animatedly with Nishinoya, enough to be distracting him from his moping.

“Maybe,” Tobio replies, and Suga smiles widely at him.

Watching Suga pack up his car is fine. Even watching him wave as his tires crunch on the gravel is okay. He got to experience this. Nothing can erase that, not Suga leaving, not failing to return to the place it all started. And besides, Suga isn’t going somewhere that Tobio can’t follow. Tobio isn’t even sure a place like that exists.

 

\--

 

Their bus is almost the last to arrive, and by the time they pile into it, Hinata is too sleepy to be obnoxious, and he takes up an entire row to himself, pushes up the arm rests and curls up along the length of the two seats using his backpack as a pillow. Both Tsukishima and Yamaguchi are piled together up towards the front, so Tobio decides he’s safe from interruptions for now.

He carefully pulls the letter from where he’d packed it into his bag and drags his thumbnail around the flap, slicing the heart in two. All Tobio can really think as he does it is _'Suga must have licked this’_ , and then mentally berates himself for thinking those kinds of thoughts so early. He has many nights at home to atone for those kind of thoughts, remembered or otherwise.

The stationary is neatly folded, and somehow smells like Suga, though Tobio will deny to the grave actually pressing the paper to his face the way he does. He’s nervous, he realizes, as the paper flutters between the gentle grip of his fingers, though it only takes one read through to dissipate the feeling.

There really is nowhere he wont follow Suga, he thinks, even if it takes him years to get there. Suga will have a dorm he can be visited at, he has a phone and a computer, he will have internet. Tobio refuses to let him go, and presses the letter, neatly folder once more against his chest as his mind rapidly runs through what he needs to do to get to that point, to forget the fear of losing Suga and realize he’s already won.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
_Tobio,_  
_I admire you so much. I’m so proud to say that I could be your mentor, even for such a small amount of time. You have made my last summer at Camp Karasuno by far the most memorable one. I have no doubt I will think of you every day following my departure._

_You gave me the award for best mentor, so let me do my job, first and foremost– humor me here. Please don’t forget that it’s okay to be selfish sometimes. Sometimes it’s even necessary. You are worth your own love and attention; know that, never forget it. Also, please slow down when you eat. I won’t always be there to rub your back when you swallow too much at once. Lastly, don’t be afraid of mediocrity. It isn’t so bad. This comes from the voice of experience._

_I will miss you like crazy. You can write to me, I often find writing is easier than speaking. You might, too. If not, please come and see me. Or call me, anything. This is not the end of our story. In fact I think it might only be the beginning._

_Love,_  
_Your Suga_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to post the last two chapters together as ive been sitting on this for a while and didnt feel like dragging it out any longer lol. thank you to K for sprinting with me and helping me get this finished! and thank you to everyone who has left kudos/comments up until now, it has been very lovely and motivating :)
> 
> please feel free to talk to me about kagesuga!! my tumblr is searsraes.tumblr.com ~

**Author's Note:**

> ([twitter](https://twitter.com/ashemasteryi))


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